Changes
by rodimus2011
Summary: Takes place immediately following S.7 E.19 The Last Temptation. Cuddy places a new member on the team to replace Masters. But this new resident has more in common with House than anyone could guess. How will this change the dynamics of the team?
1. A New Limp Part 1

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>A dark haired teenage boy walks up to a sliding glass door and knocks. An older woman walks up to the door and shakes her head.<p>

"It's almost noon," the boy says.

"Sam sleeps a lot these days," the woman replied.

"Please, Mrs. Tolsen, I haven't seen her for a week," the young man asked his eyes pleading with the woman in front of him.

Mrs. Tolsen shook her head and smiled while opening the sliding door, "I'll go see how she's feeling."

"Thank you," the boy replied.

"And I've told you a hundred times to call me Donna," Mrs. Tolsen said shutting the door. "You know the drill," Donna said disappearing down a hall and leaving the boy alone.

The boy walks over to the kitchen sink and turns the water on getting his hands wet. Next, the young man grabs a bar of soap and begins to scrub his hands all the way up past his elbows. Once he had a good lather, he set the bar of soap down and rinsed. After shutting the water off, the boy reaches to a towel dispenser just as Donna walks in.

"All done," Donna asked.

"Yeah, I scrubbed for one minute, did my nails all the way up to my elbows," the boy replied. "The whole deal." The boy sneezes suddenly.

"Oh my God are you sick," Donna asked.

"No, of course not," the boy stammered.

Donna reaches up to the boy's neck checking his lymph nodes for swelling. "A cough, sore throat, anything," Donna asked.

"No, nothing. I just sometimes sneeze when I look at lights," the boy replied. "I always have."

"I'm sorry Dave, you better…" Donna started.

"Mrs. Tolsen, I would never get her sick I swear," Dave said pleading. "I just miss her."

Donna nodded and then motioned for Dave to follow her. Donna picked up a mask and handed it to Dave. "Please wear this," Donna said. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and watched Dave walk up them before returning to the kitchen to finish the dishes she was washing.

Dave walks down the hall and knocks on the door at the end of it before opening it. The room in front of him was almost empty. The floor was tiled; a twin bed was in the middle of the room. Next to it was an end table with a small lamp and an alarm clock. On the left side of the room was a large dresser. The room was spotless, not a bit of dirt could be found anywhere in the room. Lying on the bed was what Dave had come for. A young, thin, strawberry blonde was reading a book when he walked in.

"A mask," Sam asked when she saw Dave.

"Got caught by the bouncer," Dave said.

"She's crazy," Sam said. "She's only let me out like six times in the last two months, only to go to the hospital. I'm a prisoner!"

"It's ok," Dave said. Dave sat down next to Sam and grabbed her right hand in his left. Dave traces the surgical scar on Sam's chest with the index finger of his right hand.

Sam looked down at the ground embarrassed. "It's ugly," she said.

"No it's not," Dave replied. "Besides, I wasn't looking at the scar."

Sam smiles and zips up her jumper. "Take off your mask," Sam says.

"Uh, if your mom comes in here…" Dave stammered.

"Hey, either give me a kiss or I'll kill you," Sam interrupted.

Dave takes his mask off and gives Sam a gentle kiss on her lips. He is about to give her a second kiss when he notices hives on Sam's forearm. "Your skin, are you ok," Dave asks.

Sam starts scratching at her arm when suddenly she begins to have difficulty breathing. She falls backward on the bed and flails around unable to breathe. Sam wills herself up and struggles to get to the dresser on the other side of the room.

"Sam, what's wrong? Is it your heart? What is it," Dave asks worried. "Mrs. Tolsen! Help!"

Sam opens a drawer, takes out an epi-pen, and tries to give it to Dave.

"I don't know how to do this. I've never done this before," Dave says becoming more worried. The epi-pen falls out of her hand as Dave is unsure what to do. Sam mimes for Dave to stab her with the epi-pen as her face turns white from lack of oxygen. Donna runs into the room, picks the epi-pen off the floor, and stabs Sam in the thigh with it. Sam gasps for air as her throat relaxes. Dave is kneeling on the floor looking at the mother and daughter in front of him in shock.

"What did you do to her," Donna accuses Dave.

House opens the door to the ddx room around two o'clock in the afternoon. His team is sitting around the table in their usual seats. "Didn't think you'd be coming in today," Foreman says looking at his watch.

"Thought I should make an appearance," House says sleepily. "What's our new case," House asked sitting down in his chair and wiping his eyes.

"Thirty-six year old with swelling in his groin," Taub says.

"Tell him to start using cleaner hookers, next," House replies.

"Sixteen year old passed out after picking up a prostitute," Thirteen stated.

"As much fun as I could have mocking the idiot for his spineless behavior it's boring," House shot down.

"Thirty-one year old mother with vasovagal syncope," Chase said.

"Boring," House said.

"Then we have nothing," Foreman said.

The door opens to the DDX room. In walks a young man, probably in his mid-twenties. He is wearing dark grey slacks, black dress shoes, and an unzipped leather jacket. Upon closer inspection, it could be seen that under the jacket the man is wearing a light blue shirt and tie. He has short, spiked up dark hair and a short, well groomed goatee. Everyone turns their gaze to this intruder including House and everyone's eyes are drawn to his accessory. In his right hand is a cane which he is using to limp on.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Dr. House," said the stranger.

"Would you believe it's the woman," House questioned.

"I might, if Dr. Cuddy didn't give me your exact description, I was just being polite." The young man took a step closer to the group sitting at the table. "Firstly, your cane is a dead giveaway, why would you have it if Thirteen was you, and for that matter why would you be Thirteen? You don't look like you're twenty-six."

Chase, Taub, Thirteen and Foreman look back and forth at each other.

"And who are you," House asks annoyed.

"Wait, I don't want anyone to be left out," the young man said. He leans on his cane and raises his left hand pointing the file in it across the table at Foreman. "If you had tried to convince me that Dr. Foreman was you, it would have been more convincing. However, since he wears his confidence as that shit eating grin, your cover would again have been blown. As I understand it, you show your confidence by downing vicodin. Dr. Chase is far too pretty to be a former addict, and Dr. Taub, well Dr. Taub is just too short. As to who I am, my name is Adam Trzaska. As much of a smart mouth as I am I truly am honored to meet you and your team. I've read many of your cases, and I'm a huge fan of your diagnostic capabilities."

House perked up when he said his name. "Trzaska," House repeated. "You wouldn't happen to be Adam 'The Wolf' Trzaska would you?"

"I don't think I'll ever leave that nickname behind will I," Adam said smiling.

"Why would you want to," House thought aloud. "You made me a lot of money that year."

"Well I'm glad I could help," Adam said.

"Things didn't end the way you thought though did they," House asked.

"Not quite," Adam said bouncing his cane off the ground.

"I don't mean to spoil the party but we need to find a case," Foreman said.

"Go, don't come back until you find something interesting," House instructed.

The team stood up and filed out of the ddx room.

"Why are you here," House questioned.

"I'm here for my residency, I was told to report to Dr. House in the Department of Diagnostics. "

"I'm not accepting a resident," House thought aloud.

"Well if you like, we can take a walk down to Dr. Cuddy's office and clear this up," Adam suggested.

"You read my mind," House said grabbing his cane and walking out of his office. Adam followed close behind. They walked down the hall unintentionally in step together.

Chase, Taub, Thirteen, and Foreman watched silently from a side hall. "Now that's just creepy," Chase said. "It looks like House has a double."

Cuddy was at her desk going through a stack of papers that all needed her signature. She was beginning to feel like the stack would never get any smaller and it wasn't even lunch yet. Suddenly House bursts through the door in his usual fashion, with Adam right behind him. "So glad to see you, now go away. I'm busy," stated Cuddy.

"I'm not taking on a resident," House declared.

"Yes you are," Cuddy rebutted. "Masters graduated and is now a full-fledged doctor thanks to you so there is a new spot open on the team."

"I can remember a time when you only let me have three team members, now you want me to have five," House asked.

"Yes, I want you to have five," Cuddy said looking House straight in the eye. "This hospital has been doing well and recently received a new grant with which we have been able to expand our departments. We are even adding on a new surgical annex. So you will take Adam under your wing and create a diagnosing duplicate of yourself. He even comes complete with a cane and a limp to match yours."

House stared back at Cuddy as something dawned on him. "You are on a first name basis with this guy," House questioned.

"I wouldn't push it if I were you. She's already made up her mind," Adam whispered.

Cuddy glared at House, "For your information, I have known Adam for quite some time. But I suggest we talk about it later. Like after you get started on your next case."

"I don't have a case," House stammered.

"You do now; sixteen year old girl had an allergic reaction while in a clean room." Cuddy picks up a chart and hands it to House. "Now go." Cuddy stared at House begging him to give her a reason to yell at him further, but House having learned better silently turned and limped out of her office. Adam spun and took a few steps before stopping and turning back to Cuddy.

"So I guess I should keep our connection a secret huh? Give him another puzzle to work on."

Cuddy glared at Adam and then smiled. "Get out before I change my mind about taking you on."

Adam grinned and walked out of Cuddy's office heading out of the clinic after House. House turned right at the front counter and walked to the elevators. Pressing the up button, he waited as Adam caught up with him. "May I look over the file so I can be prepared to have an opinion when we start the differential?" Adam requested.

"Knock yourself out," House said handing the file over. "But that means you get to go first."

"Fair enough," Adam responded. The doors to the elevator opened and House walked in followed by Adam. House pressed the button for his floor and waited as the door closed. Adam briefed through the first few pages. "Well E.R. ruled out drugs and infection," Adam said. "But it's been my experience that doctors working in the E.R. are lazy and incompetent." House looked up suddenly as Adam continued looking through the chart. "She had a heart transplant six months ago," Adam said a little surprised. "Why did she need the heart transplant," Adam thought aloud. "No family history of diabetes, or heart problems?" Adam scoffed. "That's a lie; every family has at least one of each if not one person who fits both."

House smiled slightly, "What makes you distrust people so much," he asked.

Adam responded without looking up from the chart. "I could ask you the same question."

"My answer is complicated," House fired back.

"Well so is mine, and why must I be a cynic to think that most people are morons?" Adam retorted.

"No reason," House said.

"Here it is, car accident," Adam stated. "The steering wheel crushed her chest."

The doors of the elevator opened and House smiled as he walked out of the elevator and down the hall to his office and ddx room. He opened the door and walked inside the ddx room to find Foreman, Thirteen, Taub, and Chase back in their usual seats. Adam followed right behind and stopped behind House's chair.

"Thirty-two year old with dyspnea and heart palpitations," Chase announced.

"Don't care," House responded as he limped over to the back corner to make a cup of coffee.

"It's the best we could find," Foreman stated.

"You apparently didn't look hard enough," House chastised.

Adam threw the chart he had been reading onto the table. Chase and Taub both grabbed the chart at the same time but Chase ripped it out of Taub's hand.

"Sixteen year old immune compromised girl had an allergic reaction," House said.

"Why is that exciting," Foreman asked confused.

"Because she had the reaction while in a clean room," House responded. Foreman nodded while pondering the case. Chase whistled, and was about to speak when House interrupted him. "And before any of you answer Cuddy's 'boy wonder' gets to go first since he got a sneak peak," House instructed.

"Her boyfriend had just come in the room," Adam said recalling what he read in the chart. "It's likely he brought in an allergen causing the anaphylaxis."

"Why did she have a clean room in her home," Thirteen asked.

"Heart transplant," House stated. "The immune system's in the toilet, so Mommy builds her little angel a John Travolta quality bubble.

"How long ago was the transplant," Taub asked.

"Six months," Adam responds. Chase hands the file over to Taub.

"Six months after the transplant she doesn't need to be in a clean room," Foreman said.

"Six months after putting out, Cuddy doesn't NEED to wear thong panties but it's not our call," House said stirring his cup of coffee he had just made.

"File says she's had four days of workups. They tested everything in the room and anyone who came anywhere near it," Taub said.

"It's like a Nancy Drew mystery," House chided taking a sip of his coffee.

"Maybe it's not what was there but what she was doing," Chase said.

"Exercise allergy, love it," House said. "What sort of exercise could a strapping young man and a nubile teenage nymphet possibly be…"

"This says mom was in the room within seconds of when the attack started," Taub interrupted.

"As I said, the boyfriend brought in an allergen and lied about it," Adam interjected.

"Or the girl snuck out and she's lying about that," Thirteen stated.

"Or the parents are lying about the room being clean," Taub stated passing the file to Thirteen.

House nodded, "Foreman and Chase recheck mom, dad, the boy, and the girl. Thirteen take bite size and the new guy to check the home."

Thirteen and Taub got up from their seats and filed out of the room. Adam limped out behind them following them down the hall. Chase was looking at Foreman puzzled because he was still sitting. Foreman wore a smirk on his face as he watched House take another sip of his coffee. "Seriously, how excited are you that the new guy is just as mistrusting as you are?" Foreman asked.

"Overjoyed at the possibility that he's not an idiot, but it's still too early to tell." House responded. Chase laughed; it had been a while since he had some new entertainment.

"You called him Cuddy's 'wonder boy', why?" Foreman thought aloud.

"I said 'boy wonder' actually. Cuddy is on a first name basis with him. She wouldn't tell me why." House recalled.

"So naturally you think she's hiding something." Foreman said.

"Well of course she's hiding something. Otherwise, she would tell me. I just need to find out why." House put down his coffee and walked out of his office heading for Wilson's.

Foreman gets up from his seat carrying the file with him. He grabs his lab coat from the coat rack near the door and heads for the patient's room with Chase closely behind him. Foreman and Chase put on a fresh gown, exam gloves, and mask before walking into the patient's clean room. "Hi I'm Dr. Foreman," he said introducing himself. "And this is Dr. Chase." Chase nodded at the family in front of him and started to examine Sam while Foreman asked questions. "Any of you have a new soap? Detergent? Perfume," Foreman asked.

Sam's dad shook his head. "No no, Donna's really careful about that stuff."

Foreman looked at Sam. "And you haven't been outside recently," he asked.

"How could I," Sam responded. "I'm trapped up there."

"You're not trapped," Donna said. "It's just safe…"

"They won't even tell me the alarm code," Sam interrupted. "Just tell her I can go back to school."

"Until we've cleared this up," Foreman cut himself off and shook his head.

"Fine," Sam said angrily. "Find out what I'm allergic to and I'll stay away from it. Then I can go back to school right?"

"It's up to your parents, but medically, there's no reason," Foreman said.

"Hah, told you," Sam said antagonizing her mother.

"Could I speak to you outside for a second please," Donna asked Foreman. Sam and Dave exchanged a look as Foreman and Donna walked outside the room. Donna was the first to speak, "You know this is hard enough without you…"

"She asked my opinion," Foreman interrupted.

"She is sixteen years old, lie to her," Donna said firmly.

Foreman tried to explain himself, "Look, when I was eight, my mom, she… she hated…"

"I know, I…I need to loosen up," Donna said. "I'm overprotective, I saw Finding Nemo, I get it, I don't need another story."

"You're not just being overprotective; you're one of the most overprotective parents I've ever seen," Foreman replied.

"She has the best private tutors," Donna said. "I let her friends visit; I'm not going to apologize."

"I'm just giving you my thoughts," Foreman said sighing.

"She almost died three times during her childhood," Donna said. "Penicillin, bee stings, peanuts."

"I've seen her file," Foreman interrupted.

"Six months ago, we leave her home alone for the first time on a weekend," Donna said. "She goes out, buys one chocolate chip cookie, peanut butter in the dough. She's forgotten her epi-pen, she drives to the hospital, passes out, and has an accident. The steering wheel crushed her chest. She ended up losing her heart. So when you say to me that I'm one of the most overprotective parents you've seen, please, please introduce me to the ones who were more protective. So that I can find out what they're doing right." Donna stormed off back into Sam's room leaving Foreman to ponder what she said.


	2. A New Limp Part 2

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. I will not be naming these episodes so as to seem like this is the first time the team has seen a case like this. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile Taub, Thirteen, and Adam pull up to the Tolsen's house. Taub shuts off the engine and Adam gets out of the back seat without hesitating. He limps up to the front door while Thirteen and Taub get out bringing their kits. Adam pulls a small pouch from his jacket pocket and unzips it. He looks over the contents and finally chooses a key. By this time Taub and Thirteen have reached the front door as well.<p>

"So usually part of our job description involves breaking and entering," Thirteen says trying to explain what was about to happen.

Taub rolled his eyes. The last time someone new came with him to search a patient's house it was Masters, who was completely useless.

"I figured," Adam replied frankly, placing the key in the door and turning it. "Cuddy told me what to expect," he said as he opened the door. Adam stepped to the side allowing Taub and Thirteen to enter while he replaced the key back in his pouch. He zipped it up and placed it back in his pocket just before entering the house and shutting the door.

"That, was, amazing," Taub said amazed. "How did you…"

"I was a kid once," Adam interrupted. "My friends and I used to pull a lot of practical jokes on my dorm mates. There aren't very many different kinds of locks these days. With the right set of master keys you can open just about any door."

"Foreman better watch out," Thirteen said looking back at Taub. "He may be out of a job soon."

This comment caused Taub to laugh as they walked around the downstairs area searching for the clean room. The group soon found their way upstairs and discovered Sam's bedroom. The three spread out and searched the bedding and the drawers as well as the closet.

"She's allergic to having a crappy social life," Taub said looking through some personal things.

"Give the parents a break; they're just trying to keep her healthy," Thirteen responded. "Everything in here is labeled hypo-allergenic," she said putting one of the pillows back on the bed.

"Check it anyway," Taub said.

Thirteen rolled her eyes while going through some more things.

Adam was by one of the windows looking outside. "Guys," he called out to the others.

"This place is cleaner than a hospital room," Thirteen said as she joined Taub at Adam's side.

"No alarm on this window," Adam said.

"It's well over twenty feet to the ground," Thirteen replied.

"You can easily get to the tree from here," Adam said. "Look, there's some bark scraped off."

"Sure, heart transplant girl swung down there on a vine," Taub said.

"Hey maybe she was hooking up with Tarzan and cheated on Dave by the elephant graveyard," Thirteen said jokingly.

"Or, Jane stayed in the tree house and Tarzan came up," Adam said. "Everybody lies," Adam said as he stared out the window.

"Are you sure you've never worked for House before," Taub asked.

"No, but I know a lot about him," Adam responded. "More I dare say than any of you knew when he hired you."

Thirteen and Taub looked at each other. Adam turned around and looked back and forth from Thirteen to Taub.

"Will you please show me how you go about bagging these samples," Adam asked. "I admit to knowing how to break in somewhere but I've never taken samples like this before."

"Sure," Thirteen said. Taub and Thirteen walked Adam through taking samples of everything. Soon they were back in Taub's car and driving back toward the hospital.

Wilson is sitting at his desk when the door suddenly opens revealing House with an irritated look on his face. "I'm busy," Wilson says without looking up from his paperwork he's reading.

"So am I," House retorts. "That's why I'm here."

"Whatever it is it will have to wait," Wilson says trying to get House to leave. House sits down in a chair in front of Wilson's desk. Wilson sighs and looks up at House.

"Cuddy wants me to hire a new team member," House says.

"She wants you to have five team members," Wilson questions.

"That's what I said," House says thinking aloud.

"And you don't want to," Wilson asks.

"I don't care one way or another, it's who she told me I had to hire," House says.

"Well who is it," Wilson asks.

"Adam Trzaska," House replies.

"Trzaska, Trzaska, where have I heard that name before," Wilson says aloud.

"Think college football five years ago," House says.

"The Wolf," Wilson replies questioningly. "The Texas A&M quarterback that you thought would win the Heisman?"

"And I would have been right if he hadn't broken his leg in the Fiesta Bowl," House responded.

"The Wolf is your new team member," Wilson asked still dumbfounded.

"Cuddy knows him personally, but she won't tell me why," House said.

"You're going to think this is crazy but did you try asking her," Wilson questioned.

"Of course I asked her," House responded.

"And," Wilson pressed.

"She said we'd talk about it later," House whined.

"You're right, she is hiding something," Wilson said sarcastically. "Because no one ever says let's talk about this later to someone else."

"What do I do," House asked.

"You ask her again, when she's not busy," Wilson replied.

"You're right," House responded getting up and walking towards the door.

"Really," Wilson asked surprised.

"Yeah," House said as he opened the door and left.

Thirteen placed a mask over her face and opened the door to the clean room. "Dave, can I speak to you for a minute," Thirteen asked. Dave patted Sam's hand and walked out placing his gown and mask in a bin outside the clean room. Taub and Adam were waiting with Thirteen.

Taub started the conversation. "When was the last time you stayed over," he asked bluntly.

"What do you mean," Dave tried to deny.

"We already know you have come up the tree by Sam's window," Thirteen said staring Dave down.

"Ok, I um, spent most of the night, Friday, but if her mom finds out about that, she will totally freak," Dave said.

"You guys had sex," Taub asked.

"Yeah but, I did everything I could to make sure she wouldn't get sick," Dave said.

Adam looked between Taub and Thirteen, "Latex allergy?"

"What do you mean, like a condom," Dave asked. "We didn't…"

"You had unsafe sex," Thirteen asked with a scolding tone. "The whole unsafe thing didn't tell you something?"

"Yeah, but we didn't like, you know, plan on it," Dave said. "It just, I don't know, we're in love you know. We've been dating for two years."

"Practically a lifetime," Taub said. "How about a semen allergy," he suggested looking at Thirteen.

"We're going to need a semen sample," Thirteen states.

Adam produces a container from his jacket pocket. "Thought we might need one," he said handing it to Thirteen.

Thirteen looks at Taub slightly impressed. She hands the cup to Dave. "You can use the bathroom over there," Thirteen says.

"Uh huh, how do I…" Dave asks slightly embarrassed.

"Think of it as a sock kid," Adam said. "Just aim and shoot."

Dave walked toward the bathroom Thirteen pointed to. Thirteen, Taub, and Adam waited and after a few minutes Dave returned with the sample and handed it to Taub who handed it to Adam. "Where do I turn this in," Adam asked.

Thirteen laughed, "Come on, the lab is this way." A while later Thirteen walked down to the clinic with the test results looking for House. She found him as he came out of an exam room. "Test was negative, no semen allergy," Thirteen said.

"Boyfriend sneaks in to get his freak on the night before the anaphylaxis, I don't buy that it's unrelated," House responded.

"He loves her," Thirteen said. "He did everything he could to make sure she wouldn't get sick."

"What's that mean," House asked.

Thirteen paused for a second. "Love is an emotion certain people experience, similar to happiness. Wait, maybe I should give a more relatable example," she said sarcastically.

"Oh snap," House retorted while handing in a patient file. "What did he do to protect her, brillo-pad his privates," he asked.

"I assume he washed and he…"

"How long have you been working for me," House asked. "When do we ever make assumptions," he asked sarcastically. House left the clinic with Thirteen close behind him. They were joined outside the patient's room by Adam.

"So were you right," he asked Thirteen.

"Not a semen allergy," Thirteen replied as House opened the door to Sam's clean room. He pointed his cane, "You the boyfriend," he asked. "Need to borrow you."

"What's going on," Donna asked. "Don't worry," House said. "I'll return him in roughly the same condition." House reemerged into the hallway with Dave behind him. Adam looked at Thirteen as the two walked away without a word.

"Follow at your own risk," Thirteen said before turning to walk away.

Curious as to what was going on Adam spun around and headed after House. Before long, House turned into a room with a sleeping patient in it. Dave followed as House waited for him. Just before House could close the door, Adam walked in.

"What are you doing here," House asked.

"Learning," Adam replied. "Just pretend like I'm not here, I'm sure that's not hard."

House stared at him for a moment while Adam backed into the corner next to the door and leaned against the wall as he shut the door. House turned his attention to the boy he had brought into the room. "Did you take anything to stay healthy," he asked. "Something stronger than an apple a day?"

Distracted, Dave points worriedly to the coma patient. "Is he ok," Dave asked.

"He's just tired," House replied. "From being in a coma so long. What'd you take? Don't worry, he can keep a secret." Dave can't stop staring at the coma patient. House is beginning to get frustrated and walks up to Dave grabbing his face and turning it to look him in the eye. "Antibiotics? Penicillin? Any of those names ring a bell," House asked.

"Yeah, um, my friend Jacob, his dad had a whole bottle that he hadn't finished so I swiped it and took a bunch for like a week," Dave said. "There's no way I was going to risk breathing germs on Sam." House looked back at Adam who was grinning and shaking his head in the corner. "This is the one downside of teenage sex," House said. "You're idiots. You almost killed your girlfriend." Dave's eyes met House's, looking confused. "She's allergic to penicillin," House said letting the kid's jaw go and stepping toward the door.

Dave was shocked, "Do you think there was still some on my lips? I brushed my teeth!"

"Think lower, and more fun," House said.

Dave looks down, "It, it can go through your stuff," Dave asked.

"Totally dude," House replied. "There's this administrator here, whenever she gets sick she just gives me the prescription."

"But they tested Sam, they said she wasn't allergic to my stuff," Dave said.

"Yeah, four days later," House responded. "By that time the penicillin was crusting up a sock in the bottom of your hamper."

"W…wait, do you have to tell her it was my fault," Dave asked.

"No," House said shaking his head. "Great part of being a grown-up, you never have to do anything." Dave rubs his face nervously as House and Adam leave. House and Adam walk next to each other towards the ddx room.

"So I'm guessing by now that most of your cases are the result of human stupidity," Adam asked.

"In the end, yeah," House said. "If you can find the truth people cling to behind their lies, you'll find your answer. You'll do fine kid."

"Thanks," Adam said.

"It's not a compliment, it means you're just as screwed up as me," House said. "The first diagnosis you came to was based on distrusting the patient and the E.R. doctors."

"I have problems trusting other people," Adam replied. "It's a long story."

House silently thought while they continued to walk. "Your buddies in the trenches abandoned their leader when things were good," House thought aloud. "A leader who had taken them further than anyone ever had, and rumor had it you took a personal interest in each one of your guys."

Adam limped a little faster cutting in front of House and stopping in front of him. Adam stared into House's eyes, House could see he had struck a nerve. "I respect you House, I even aspire to be like you one day. But I will not let you crawl in my head and screw me up worse than I already am. You will never utter a word about that game, ever again, are we clear?" Adam continued to stare a hole into House.

"If you don't let me have my fun I won't keep you," House said flatly.

Adam grinned and looked down before looking back up at House. "You don't have a choice," Adam said. "I'm here because Cuddy wants me here. And nothing either of us do is going to change that. So like it or not, we're in this together."

House grinned back at Adam. "Come on," he said stepping around Adam. Adam continued to follow House back to the ddx room.

The team talked over the new information they had and decided to discharge Sam. Thirteen and Chase were tasked to go and release her. Thirteen went into the clean room to get Sam ready to leave while Chase spoke to Donna outside the room. "You're releasing her," Donna asked. "What happened? What did you find out?"

"The tests from your house ruled out any environmental allergens," Chase said.

"Yeah, but what caused this," Donna asked.

"We don't believe this...set of circumstances will repeat itself," Chase stated.

"What set of circumstances," Donna asked confused.

"This is good news," Chase said trying to deflect the question. "But you might want to talk…"

Chase was interrupted by alarms going off from Sam's room. "Chase get in here," Thirteen yelled. Chase rushed into the room.

"I can't breathe," Sam gasped.

"Getting the epi," Chase said.

Thirteen listened to Sam's chest with her stethoscope. "No murmurs, nor friction, no obstruction…"

"Give her the shot," Sam's dad yelled.

"What are you waiting for," Donna asked worriedly.

Thirteen pulls Sam forward and places the stethoscope to her back. Sam begins coughing up white foam. "She's coughing up white sputum," Chase says.

"Crackling two thirds of the way up," Thirteen states. Thirteen lays Sam back down and notices a vein sticking out of her neck. "Chase, look at her neck," Thirteen says.

"She's vomiting, could you give her the shot," Donna asks.

"It's not an allergy it's her heart," Chase says. Thirteen and Chase exchange glances.

Thirteen and Chase are able to slow down Sam's heart and stabilize her. They return back downstairs to the ddx room to discuss a new differential.

"What's the good news, what's the bad news," House asks while writing on the whiteboard.

"Congestive heart failure," Chase says.

"Is which," House asks.

"Good news," Chase replies. House turns around staring at Chase. "I don't know, it just sounded like you," Chase replied.

"It's a new symptom," Adam said from the corner rubbing his face.

"A new puzzle piece, that's always good news," House said. "What's the bad news?"

"We've got two puzzle pieces from two different puzzles," Foreman said.

"Seems that way," House said sighing.

"What if her anaphylaxis wasn't anaphylaxis," Taub asked. "Toxicity from the anti-rejection meds could cause a seizure and then heart failure."

"That got cured by an epi-pen," Adam asked.

"It's anaphylaxis," House agreed. "What else?"

"What if there really are two puzzles," Foreman asked.

"You think she had two unrelated, rare conditions in one week," Chase questioned unconvinced.

"We explained the anaphylaxis," Foreman retorted.

"What do you mean 'we'," House asked. "I did! At least I thought I did, maybe I didn't. Still, it was all me."

"And I suppose heart problems are rare in someone who's recently had a heart transplant," Adam interrupted.

"Who's side are you on," House asked.

"Let's assume House was right about the anaphylaxis…" Foreman started.

"It is tempting," House said.

"Heart failure could be either infection, coronary disease, or rejection," Foreman said smirking at House.

House glared back at Foreman, "What ties both of these conditions together?"

"There's no fever so it's probably not infection," Adam says.

"Or no fever because she's been on immune-suppressants for the last six months," Taub retorts.

"We should be sure," Thirteen said. "We should do a CT, get a heart biopsy."

House nods, "Go."

The team gets up and files out of the ddx room. They get Sam and take her down to radiology. The team is crammed in the small control room while the CT machine runs. "So Dr. Trzaska, how are you liking your first day," Foreman asked making conversation.

"It's good," Adam said. "I'm hoping for a positive resolution to this case but for now it's going fine." The team sat in silence for a moment watching the computer monitors.

"Where did you go to med school," Taub asked.

"Texas A&M," Adam replied. Everyone in the room turned around to look at him.

"You didn't go to Hopkins," Chase asked.

"Nope," Adam replied looking at the monitor.

"Are you originally from Texas," Thirteen asked.

"Yes," Adam responded. "I grew up in a small town in central Texas."

"I don't mean to sound rude but were you in the top of your class," Taub asked.

"Nope," Adam responded. He looked back at Taub looking serious. "I don't mean to be rude, but if I give too much information away you guys will ruin House's latest puzzle." Adam's eyebrows narrowed as he stared at the screen. "What's that," he said pointing his cane at the screen.

"Think it's vegetation," Chase asks.

"Yeah, the kind made of muscle that opens your heart valves," Foreman said. "It's nothing. She's clean." Foreman gets up and leaves the control room as Sam is ejected from the MRI. She sits up and looks at Foreman. "Everything looks good," Foreman said. "You don't show any signs of coronary artery disease."

"So what's next," Sam asks.

"Well, blood work to rule out infection, and then a heart surgical biopsy to rule out rejection," Foreman replied.

"But you don't think you're going to rule out both things, do you," Sam asked.

Foreman shook his head solemnly, "No."

"I'm going to lose this heart aren't I," Sam questioned.

"Hopefully we'll find the problem and fix it," Foreman replied. "You'll get to keep your heart for a long time."

"How long," Sam asked.

"There could be drug breakthroughs that allow you to keep it for decades more," Foreman said.

"Yeah, that's the answer my cardiologist always gives me," Sam replied defeated. "I looked it up on the web. It's like five or ten years right?"

Foreman nods, "That's about the average."

"That's why I need to have a life," Sam said determined. "Why can't you convince my mom to let me go back to school?"

"Sam, you've got bigger worries right now than missing school," Foreman replied. "Until we figure out what's wrong with your heart, the safest place for you to be is right here."

Taub shook his head inside the control room listening to the conversation. "This girl is dying and she's more worried about going to school than living."

"All she's concerned about is living," Thirteen responded. "She knows that every day she has is precious. She doesn't want to waste any of it. How does that make her a bad person?"

"Well as long as she doesn't start having sex with random strangers and doing drugs I'd say there's nothing wrong with it," Chase replied. Thirteen glared at Chase knowing his comment was directed at her.

"I didn't realize there was anything wrong with that," Adam spoke up. "Sounds like a lot of fun to me." Adam limped out of the control room to help Foreman leaving Taub, Thirteen, and Chase speechless.


	3. A New Limp Part 3

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. I will not be naming these episodes so as to seem like this is the first time the team has seen a case like this. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>The day went by as the team continued to work on Sam's case.<p>

Wilson goes by House's office to talk to him about Cuddy but he discovers House has already gone for the day. Wilson finishes the last case he had for the day and drives to House's apartment. He walks up to the door and knocks loudly to be sure House will hear him. A minute or two goes by and the door opens. House eyes Wilson up and down.

"Can I come in," Wilson asks.

"Not sure you want to," House responds. "I've got a couple of hookers in the back."

Wilson pushed his way into the apartment calling House's bluff. He found the apartment empty except for House and himself. "And for once I actually hoped you were telling the truth, and that you might share," Wilson said sarcastically.

House smiled, "All it will take is one phone call."

Wilson ignored the comment. "So did you talk to Cuddy," he asked.

"Nope," House responded while moving over to the couch. "Can you think of anything that would tie together anaphylaxis and heart failure?"

"You said I was right," Wilson said confused.

"Any way that anaphylaxis isn't anaphylaxis even if it responds to epi," House asks.

"No," Wilson replied. "You were screwing with me," Wilson said realizing what happened.

"Yes, House responded, "Any chance the heart failure could be unrelated to…"

"No, if you don't want to listen to my advice don't," Wilson said. "You don't have to screw with me."

"Screwing with you is more fun," House responded.

"Are you going to talk to Cuddy," Wilson asked.

"Sure," House replied.

"Really," Wilson asked.

"Nope," House responded.

"Then why did you lie," Wilson questioned.

"Thought it was what you wanted to hear," House said.

Wilson threw his hands up defeated. "Got any more of that chicken cacciatore left," Wilson asked as he opened the refrigerator.

"Top shelf," House said smiling while looking at the television.

Meanwhile back at the hospital Chase is closing up Sam's chest after performing the biopsy on Sam's heart. Taub and Thirteen assisted while Foreman and Adam watched from the viewing window. "I'm surprised you didn't want to assist," Foreman said.

"Surgery's not really my thing," Adam responded. "I don't have steady enough hands and my back doesn't like standing still for such a long period of time. Surgery is a skill better suited for short people like Taub." Foreman chuckled at Adam's comment. "You know this biopsy is going to come back negative right," Adam asked Foreman.

"No I don't," Foreman said. "But it wouldn't hurt my feelings if it did."

"We're missing something," Adam said. "This isn't just a coincidence."

"Well until we have any evidence to prove otherwise, it's just that. A coincidence," Foreman said.

Sam's biopsy goes well and she spends the night recovering back in her clean room with her parents. The next day the team gets the results and go to discuss them with Sam's parents. Foreman is briefing Sam's parents outside her room. Thirteen, Taub, Chase, and Adam are also there. "Biopsy came back negative for rejection," Foreman announced.

"Thank God," Sam's father said.

"And what about the blood tests," Donna asked.

"They showed no sign of infection," Foreman stated.

"So we still don't know what caused her heart failure," Donna said questioning.

"Let's just be happy she doesn't need a new heart," Sam's father said.

"Mrs. Tolsen, this could have just been a one-time thing," Foreman said.

"So she has an allergic reaction and heart failure, and neither of them can be explained," Donna said.

Foreman shrugs.

"Are they doing any more tests on her," Sam's father asks looking in Sam's room.

"No," Foreman responds shaking his head.

"She's not here," her father says.

Foreman and the others look in the room and see Sam is in fact not there. "Call Cuddy," Foreman said. Chase pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Cuddy's office to inform her.

"Notify local hospital, cab companies, state troopers and local cops," Cuddy said speaking to her head nurse outside of Sam's room. "Any security offers that were off duty are back on."

"Yes ma'am," the nurse replied picking up a phone.

Cuddy turned to Sam's parents. "I'm going to need some pictures." She turns her gaze to House's team. "Go through those drawers see if anything is missing." Thirteen, Chase, and Taub start pulling things out. "And I want at least two people going over the surveillance tapes," Cuddy said.

Donna hands a picture to Cuddy. "Will that work," she asked.

Cuddy nods and looks at what Thirteen and the others took out. "Are those all of her clothes," Cuddy asked.

"Um, yeah," Donna replied confused.

"She's obviously still in the building," Cuddy said. "So where did she go, what does she want?"

"To see her boyfriend," Chase suggested.

"She didn't take her phone," Cuddy stated.

"Yesterday she talked about how she needed to live," Taub said glancing at Thirteen who returned his gaze with a stern look of her own.

"She wants to live," Adam said thinking aloud. The look of an epiphany flashed across his face. "She wants to be outside." With that, Adam darted off limping towards the stairs and heading up toward the roof.

"Take the elevator," Cuddy said looking at the rest of the team. "Have security check all the exits," she said to one of the nurses nearby.

Adam made it to the last floor and was about to ascend toward the roof when he saw Sam. She was sitting gloomily on one of the stairs. Adam slowed his pace and approached her. "If you're trying to scare your parents you're doing a great job," he said. "Do you think we can go back to your room now?"

"I hate her," Sam replied.

Adam took a seat next to Sam rubbing his knee. "Your mom is worried about you," Adam said.

"She was like this before," Sam replied. "Home by nine every night, can't go out on weekends, can't do sports. The transplant just gave her what she always wanted."

"You had heart failure," Adam said puzzled by Sam's complaining. "Now's not really the time to criticize your mom about being overprotective.

"I know, I mean this is what makes it even worse," Sam said. "All of her craziness is…it just…makes sense now. I didn't even try to get outside. I was too scared."

"Come on," Adam said standing up. "Let's get you better and then I'll help you tell your mother she's an idiot."

Sam smiled and allowed Adam to help her stand up. She started to walk down the stairs ahead of Adam. He watched her walk and noticed something.

"Wait, Sam, walk back towards me," Adam said.

"Why," Sam asked turning around.

"Please," Adam asked nicely.

Sam walks back towards Adam but her left foot drags up the stairs. "It feels kind of weird," Sam said.

Adam had Sam finish walking up to him and then they got on the elevator. When the doors opened on Sam's floor, her parents rushed to her and hugged her viciously. Adam limped away from them and approached Foreman. "You need to examine her," Adam whispered so only Foreman could hear. "She has some paralysis in her left leg. I noticed it coming down the stairs."

Foreman nodded and ushered Sam and her parents back into her room. He had her sit on her bed and straighten her leg out so he could examine it. "Do you feel that," Foreman asked Sam as he manipulated her foot.

"Yeah but it's dull, it feels like it's asleep," Sam replied.

"It's called steppage gait," Foreman stated.

"Is it serious," Sam's dad asked.

"Not necessarily," Foreman said. He looked at Sam, "Now stick your leg out and hold it up."

"She was under anesthesia for the biopsy, if she lost oxygen…" Donna started.

"CT ruled out brain damage," Foreman interrupted. "Put your leg down and relax," Foreman said to Sam. As Foreman lets her leg down from where he was holding it up, a muscle in her thigh starts to spasm.

"Why is her leg twitching like that," Donna asked.

"For circulation," Foreman replied.

"Is that serious," Sam's dad asked.

"It's paralysis, and it's ascending," Foreman said.

"You're saying, she's going to lose the use of her legs," Donna asked.

"To start with," Foreman says. Sam looks at Foreman horrified. "I need to discuss this with my colleagues," Foreman said. "We've missed something." Foreman left Sam's room and walked into the ddx room.

House and his team are all in the ddx room to discuss a new differential on Sam. "It's ascending fast; she can hardly extend her leg now," Foreman stated.

"At this rate, it'll be up to her lungs in a matter of days," said Thirteen.

"So…anaphylaxis, heart failure, and paralysis. We couldn't put the first two together; I'm guessing we can't put all three together," House said.

"Tick paralysis fits," Adam said. "Could explain the anaphylaxis, maybe even the…"

"Penicillin allergy explains the allergic reaction much better," Foreman interrupted.

"Particularly because tick paralysis is usually accompanied by an actual tick," Thirteen stated.

"Maybe we missed it," Adam argued.

"We did two comprehensive physicals looking for insect bites," Foreman said. "It's not tick paralysis."

House was standing by the window leaning his head against it looking outside. "Can we put any two of those together," he asked.

"How about we stipulate," Foreman asked. "You argue that there must be something to connect all three symptoms, you mocked us for not figuring it out, and finally you let us discuss the paralysis on its own because it's what's going to kill her. Now it's ascending, MRIs are clean so we can rule out stroke or aneurysm."

"ALS, MS," Taub suggested.

"Progression's too quick," Chase stated.

"Spinal lesion from leukemia," Thirteen suggested.

"Too slow, it's most likely Guillain-Barre," Foreman said.

"She's immune-suppressed, what about botulism," Chase said.

"Not unless she's been walking around on her hands the last couple of days, botulism paralysis is descending not ascending," Adam said. "Something has to explain all three symptoms."

"Could be a virus," Thirteen said ignoring Adam's comment. "West Nile, or even Polio with her immune system shot,"

"Get an LP, and do PCRs for the viruses," House said. "And get an EMG to check for Guillain-Barre. Foreman's right, we've got to find out why she's paralyzed." The entire team stares at House. "But not before staring at me dumbly for fifteen seconds," House says annoyed.

Everyone stands up and exits the ddx room. Adam looks at House as everyone leaves. "You really think it's all unrelated," Adam asked. "It was my understanding that you hated coincidences."

"I hate dead patients more," House said shaking his head. "Go," he told Adam. Adam looked at House a bit longer but with House leaving no room for argument Adam left following the rest of the team.

The team performs the tests they discussed. Hours later Foreman is speaking to Sam's parents. "We ran more tests on your daughter," Foreman said. "We took a lumbar puncture; got some spinal fluid and brought it to the lab to look for infections that could be affecting her brain. We also did an EMG to check how her muscles and nerves are responding to electrical impulses. Unfortunately, her muscles are showing increased weakness above the knee."

"You mean she's getting worse," Donna asked.

"The LP and PCRs ruled out Polio and West Nile," Foreman replied. "We think it's Guillain-Barre. Her body's immune response goes haywire, starts attacking the peripheral nerves. It causes muscle weakness and paralysis."

"How bad is it," Sam's dad asked.

"It's serious, but Guillain-Barre usually responds very well to plasmapheresis," Foreman responded. "You see the plasma, the clear liquid part of her blood, contains most of the antibodies which are overreacting and attacking her nervous system. The machine spins her blood in a centrifuge and separates parts of the blood based on weight. White blood cells are the heaviest, then the red cells, then platelets and plasma. We discard the stuff that's causing all the trouble and return the good blood cells back to her body in a replacement fluid. If it works, we'll see results in a couple of days."

Sam's parents looked back and forth between each other. "Ok, do it," Donna said signing the consent form in her hand. The team puts Sam on the plasmapheresis.

Meanwhile, Wilson walks into House's office. House had been leaning back in his chair tossing his ball up in the air. "I didn't realize Cuddy had shrunk down to the size of your thinking ball," Wilson chided.

"I'm busy," House said glaring at Wilson.

"How's your patient," Wilson asked.

"Dying," House replied sitting up in his chair and placing his ball on his desk. "Got her on plasmapheresis for Guillain-Barre."

"That doesn't explain the anaphylaxis," Wilson states questioningly.

"Anaphylaxis was a fluke," House responded rubbing his head.

"You don't like coincidences," Wilson replied pointing at House.

"I didn't realize you were 'The Wolf' in sheep's clothing," House said annoyed.

Wilson sighed, "He thought maybe if I brought it up you might listen."

"I'd like to," House said shaking his head. "But I've got nothing else to go on." Wilson nods and leaves.

The afternoon went on without any incidents. House goes home and leaves his team to recheck Sam. Afterwards Foreman talks to Sam's parents about Sam's current condition. "Her reflexes are marginally weaker," Foreman stated.

"Her paralysis is getting worse," Donna asked.

"Sometimes it takes a few treatments for the plasmapheresis to work," Foreman responded.

Sam snuggles up in her blanket. "Why do these things keep happening to me," Sam says aloud. Donna leans down and helps cover Sam with her blanket.

"Dave's back," Sam's dad says looking out the clear door.

"Honey did you hear that? Dave's here," Donna said.

"I don't want to see him," Sam says. Thirteen, Chase, and Foreman look at each other confused. "I'll tell him to come back later," Donna says.

"No, Mom," Sam cries out. "Stay here, please."

Donna nods at her daughter, "Of course honey."

Thirteen took it upon herself to go out to talk to Dave. When she exited the room she shook her head at Dave. "I'm sorry, Sam said she's too tired to talk right now," Thirteen said. Dave nodded and slowly walked away disappointed. Donna walks out of the room to talk to Thirteen.

"He looks upset," Donna said watching Dave turn a corner.

"I told him she was tired," Thirteen replied blankly.

Donna turned her gaze back to Sam, she looked through the window thinking about her daughter. "She finally fell asleep," Donna said.

"I'm sure she's exhausted," Thirteen replied. "Mood swings are common with the anti-rejection meds."

"No," Donna responded. "She's had mood swings, this isn't it. She's just given up. I know you all think I'm crazy, but this isn't what I wanted. She's always fought with me, ever since she was a baby. She was so damn stubborn, but I never wanted her like this. I just wanted her safe."

Alarms start going off in Sam's room. "Need some help in here," Foreman shouts. Thirteen rushes in to help. Sam is sitting up, struggling to breathe. Foreman has his stethoscope to Sam's back listening to her lungs. "She's losing accessory muscles," Foreman says.

"O2 stats down to ninety, lungs clear," Chase asks. He grabs an oxygen mask and looks at Sam. "Does your tongue feel swollen," he asks.

Adam and Taub run in at this point. "No hives," Foreman reports.

"It's not an allergy," Adam says coolly.

"Her lips are cyanotic, we've got to intubate," Taub says.

"What are you doing," Donna asks starting to panic.

Foreman lowers Sam's bed down. "Pushing epi," Chase says injecting the contents of a syringe into Sam's i.v. line.

Thirteen is gathering items from one of the carts.

"She's not getting enough oxygen, we've got to assist her breathing," Foreman says to Donna.

Thirteen leans down over Sam, uses a laryngoscope, and places the trachea tube. Taub hands her a breathing bag and Thirteen begins periodically breathing for Sam.

"What was that? Was that a reaction to the treatment," Donna asks.

"It's the paralysis," Adam says from the end of Sam's bed. "It's reached her lungs now." The team gets Sam on a breathing machine and leaves her with her parents. They head to the ddx room to call House.

Back at House's apartment his phone rings next to him on the couch. House is already in pajama pants and a white t-shirt and watching t.v. "Hello," House says answering the phone.

"Sam's dying," Foreman's voice says from the other end of the phone.

"We're all dying," House replies. "How fast?"

"Too fast for Guillain-Barre," Chase says.

"Cuddy wants to get an MRI to rule out spinal lesions," Taub says.

House gets a puzzled look on his face. "Cuddy? What's she doing on this," he asks.

"Surprise surprise, the family lost confidence in us," Adam stated sarcastically tapping his cane on the floor.

"I don't blame them," House said. "I'll be right in." House hangs up his phone and gets off his couch. He gets dressed and rides his motorcycle to the hospital. House parks his bike in his usual handicap space thirty minutes later. Upon getting off and moving towards the front door he notices with confusion a few spaces over is another motorcycle parked in a handicap space. House smirks and continues to go inside. A few minutes later he arrives in the ddx room to see his team all in their usual spots. "Talk," House says as he walks over to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup.

"It's like she got poisoned with a nerve agent," Foreman says.

"Glue inhalation," Thirteen suggests. "Would explain why she hasn't admitted it."

"Tox screen was clear for pot," Taub responded. "You think a middle class heart transplant patient's going to huff glue?"

"Pesticides," Adam suggested.

"Not this time of year," Chase said.

"This girl's tough," House says. "She gets what she wants. She's deprived of human contact; she gets herself a back door man. Or in her case, a side window boy. What else has she been deprived of?"

"She's on a special diet because of her allergies," Thirteen states looking at a copy of the chart.

"Boyfriend brings the hot beef, he also brings a side dish, botulism," House states.

"We've already been over this," Foreman states annoyed. "This paralysis is ascending, remember?"

"Not if the heart problem was really a paralytic problem," House responded.

"Why would she admit the sex and not the food," Thirteen asked.

"She didn't admit anything," Adam said. "He admitted the sex and we didn't ask him about the food."

"Get me a rat," House said.

"What do you need a rat for," Taub asked.

"Only way to confirm this, we inject a rat with her blood, and wait for it to get all botulistic on your ass," House said. "In the meantime, I'm going downstairs to browbeat the scared dying teenage girl until she…breaks down like a scared dying teenage girl." House leaves the ddx room with Adam and Foreman in tow.


	4. A New Limp Part 4

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor, so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. I will not be naming these episodes so as to seem like this is the first time the team has seen a case like this. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>House barges into the MRI room where Sam, her parents, and Cuddy are. "Get out House," Cuddy said. "We're checking for spinal lesions from leukemia."<p>

"Yeah, I know," House responds. "Fits perfectly, unless this is the patient with the anaphylaxis, the heart failure, and the paralysis. In which case you're wasting your time."

"We wanted a second opinion," Donna said.

"Second," House questions. "We've given you at least eight. Ok, well then here is nine." House leans down and extubates Sam. "Botulism," House says looking at Cuddy. He turns his attention back to Sam. "Listen to me, have you eaten anything abnormal," he asks her. "Any canned foods?"

"No," Sam says gasping.

"You sure," House asks. "Lying to your parents is usually the right thing to do, but there is an impending death exception." House grabs a bag and puts it over Sam's mouth, pumping it to help her breathe.

"No," Sam answers.

"Don't talk to her like that," Sam's dad yells at House.

"You're right, she never lies," House says sarcastically. "I was being rude. When your boyfriend snuck in on Friday night…" House stops and turns to Sam's parents. "Surprise." House turns back to Sam. "Perhaps he got you some sexy little treats, huh? Some honey or some edible underwear, massage oils, come on, anything."

Sam gasps for breath, "We didn't…"

"Yeah, we know about the sex," House says. Sam's eyes widen in shock. "Turns out that Dave's little Dave is full of penicillin, that's what caused your anaphylactic shock."

"What? You didn't tell us that," Donna says horrified.

"No," Sam interjects still gasping. "It was clindamycin, what I use."

"He said he was on penicillin," House thought aloud, confused.

Sam shakes her head, "I saw the bottle."

"Just more proof kids are idiots," Adam says. "He didn't even know what he was taking."

"It's a non-penicillin antibiotic," Foreman says to himself.

"If the antibiotics didn't cause the anaphylaxis…" House started.

"It's still on the table," Foreman finished House's sentence.

"Everything's connected," Adam says.

"What did we discuss," House asked trying to remember. "What was the differential?"

"Adam said…" Foreman trailed off. He and House looked at Adam who nodded. House and Foreman then looked at each other. House leaned back down to Sam.

"When Dave came to your house that night, did he go through any tall grass," House asked her.

"Climbed a fence," Sam gasped. House goes to Donna's handbag and empties it. He sifts through the items and picks out a comb.

"What are you doing," Donna asks.

"Your daughter had two visitors on Friday night," House says. "One of them is still in the room. She has tick paralysis. Dave tracked a tick on to his jeans, which wouldn't be a problem but being a teenager, Dave couldn't keep his tick in his pants."

"We already checked her," Foreman argued.

"Now I'm checking her," House said indignantly.

"Tick bites don't cause anaphylactic shock," Cuddy said shaking her head.

"This girl's allergies are not ordinary," House says back.

"House, get out of here," Cuddy yells. "We have to re-intubate her, and get her into the MRI."

"Time course is perfect," House says still combing through Sam's hair. "Bite itself sets off an allergic reaction, venom takes four days to kick in, heart's vulnerable, hits that first. Then a day later, sets off the ascending paralysis."

"Except that ticks aren't usually invisible," Cuddy says annoyed.

"They are until you find them," House shouts holding up the comb. "Oh no, that's dandruff. That wasn't nearly as dramatic as I'd hoped. Just means that next time it'll be even better."

Sam starts to go into cardiac distress, her pulse monitor starts beeping.

"What's happening," Sam's dad asks.

"That's the tick venom ascending," House replies.

"Either that or you stressed her into heart failure," Cuddy states. "BP's dropping, heart rate forty-seven."

"I'm administering atropine," Foreman says.

"She's going to need a trans-venous pacing wire," Cuddy says. "That's enough, magical tick hunt is over, only real doctor stuff now," she says pushing herself between House and Sam.

"She's just going to get worse," House says. Ticks produce more toxins the longer they feed. She's going to be dead in an hour, even if you pump her heart full of jet fuel. Unless you let me find that tick."

"Could he be right," Donna asks.

"The only thing I know for sure is that your daughter's heart won't last another twenty minutes without treatment," Cuddy answers.

"Okay, just need one final instruction, when I find the tick on the autopsy, do you want to know," House asks. "I'm thinking not, probably will make coping easier."

"Stop talking to them," Cuddy yells at House. Cuddy turns to one of the nurses in the room. "Page Dr. Ski in cardiology and get her team down here stat." Cuddy turns to another nurse. "Get them out of here, House too." Cuddy turns to Adam. "Dr. Trzaska I could use your help." House and Sam's parents are herded out.

Adam taps his cane on the floor. "The dopamine's not going to be enough," he says stepping closer to Sam. "She may need inamrinone lactate."

House is able to here this.

"Why? What is that," Donna asks Cuddy.

"She doesn't…" Cuddy starts to reply to Adam.

"She's gonna need stronger pressers and they don't have any in radiology," Adam states.

"Inamrinone can cause arrhythmia and thrombocytopenia," Cuddy responds.

"No inamrinone could cause death," Adam states. "Last time I checked death's worse. We've got to get her up to the ICU."

Cuddy thinks for a few seconds and nods. Adam helps her, Foreman, and the nurses get Sam onto a gurney and Foreman pushes Sam out of radiology and down the hall towards the elevator. House steps in the elevator and holds the lift doors open with his cane. Foreman ducks underneath pushing the gurney into the elevator. House's cane blocks everyone else from entering.

"Sorry, it's a little crowded in here," House says.

"House, get out of the elevator," Cuddy scolds.

"You're welcome to wait for the next one," House says removing his cane from the door allowing them to begin to close.

"You got her," Cuddy asks Foreman.

"Got her," Foreman responds.

Adam and House's eyes meet. Adam nods to House just before the doors close completely. After a few seconds House pulls the emergency stop button and feigns innocence as Foreman glares at House. "Well as long as we're stuck here, might as well look for that tick," House says.

"House, turn the elevator back on," Foreman says.

"Just be a minute honey," House replies. Foreman walks around the bed toward the front of the elevator to release it but House pushes him back with his cane. Foreman struggles to get past House's cane and is finally able to pull it out of his hands. Sam's pulse monitor begins to sound off just as Foreman gets House's cane.

"Happy now, atropine's wearing off," Foreman says.

"Inject her again," House replies.

"That's just temporary," Foreman argues.

"Temporary is fine, we're not hanging wallpaper," House shouts.

"We've got to get her upstairs and put her on norepinephrine," Foreman says.

"It wasn't penicillin," House says. "You still think the symptoms are unconnected?"

"We've got to take care of her heart…" Foreman says grabbing the bag and placing it over Sam's face helping her breathe.

"You wake up in the morning, the paint's peeling, your curtains are gone, and the water's boiling," House shouts. "Which problem do you deal with first?"

"House," Foreman pleads.

"None of them," House shouts. "The building's on fire! We treat her symptoms she dies; we find the cause she lives. That tick is an i.v. drip of poison, we unhook it and she'll be fine."

Foreman shakes his head tired of arguing. "This is my last atropine," he says. "Buys us about three minutes."

"Counting," House says.

Foreman injects the atropine and House begins his search again. Sam inhales deeply as her heart picks up speed. "Her heart rate falls below thirty-five; we're getting her to the ICU," Foreman says. "I'm not going to let her die in this elevator."

Meanwhile, Sam's parents, Cuddy, and Adam arrive on the ICU floor. "Where are they," Sam's dad asks looking around.

Cuddy looks at the elevators and realizes it is stuck when she notices the lights flashing. She turns to one of the nurses, "Get maintenance up here right away."

Back in the elevator House and Foreman are still looking for the tick. "Ear canal's clean," Foreman reports.

"Left foot's clean," House says.

"If it's not here, we've only got…" Foreman is cut off by the heart monitor beeping.

"Heart rate's forty-six," he reports.

"It's here," House says convinced. "It looks like a mole or a freckle, something we missed. Check the armpits."

Back upstairs, Cuddy is trying to calm the parents as the maintenance guy checks the elevator. "Dr. Foreman's an excellent doctor; he'll be able to handle it," Cuddy says to the parents.

"Yeah," Sam's dad asks. "You know that from experience? You lose a lot of patient's on elevators?"

Donna interrupts, "The maintenance guy said that it didn't just stop on its own. He says they must have hit the emergency stop button."

Cuddy turns around and glares at Adam. "I'm sure he must be mistaken," she says. Adam nods at Cuddy.

Back in the elevator, House continues his search, fine combing through Sam's hair. "Inner ear," House asks Foreman.

"We checked it," Foreman replies. "If we get her upstairs…"

"Axilla," House asks ignoring Foreman's panic.

"Checked," Foreman replies. He looks at Sam's heart monitor. "Heart rate down to thirty-eight. We don't have a lot of time, we've got to…"

"Eyebrows, eardrums, pubic hair," House asks interrupting again.

"Checked, checked, checked," Foreman says continuing to panic. "We checked everywhere, it's not…" Foreman is interrupted by the alarm from the heart monitor. "Heart rate is thirty-five, we've got to get her to the ICU."

"We haven't found the tick yet," House responds still looking.

"We already kidnapped her, you want to add murder," Foreman asks. "We've looked over every inch of skin on her body House. It's over." Foreman releases the emergency stop button. The elevator lurches upward.

House stops looking, deep in thought. He turns to Sam onto her back and shakes her. "Hey, is that the first time you had sex," House asks. Sam tries to answer but faints. "With all the other stuff going on down there she might not have realized…" House trails off as he moves to the foot of the gurney and lifts up Sam's gown checking her pubic area.

The elevator dings and the doors open revealing Foreman pumping the breathing bag and House between Sam's legs. House looks up for a second and then looks back down. Sam's father becomes visibly enraged. "You sick, miserable…" he trails off as he rushes into the elevator. Adam limps forward and grabs Sam's father's arms trying to stop him.

"What are you doing," Cuddy yells at House.

"Oh my God," Donna yells mortified at what House is doing.

"Wait," Adam yells as Sam's father breaks free of his grip. Her dad pushes House up against the back wall of the elevator with Adam trying to pull the dad away. House looks down at his hand and everyone sees he is holding something.

"See, told you it'd be more dramatic this time," House says. Everyone is silent and stares at House seeing him holding a tick whose legs are still wriggling.

"Push norepinephrine," Adam says smiling. "She'll be completely cured by tomorrow." Donna smiles.

"Foreman, let's get her into the ICU," Cuddy says. Foreman rolls his eyes and wheels Sam out. The nurses assist him while Cuddy and the parents follow.

House hobbles out of the elevator, and grabs his cane from the gurney before it wheels away. He drops the tick into someone's cup and starts taking off his gloves as Adam walks up beside him. "Inamrinone was a stupid idea," House says. "Unless you wanted me to get that girl in the elevator."

"I wouldn't do that," Adam replies as he drops in step with House.

"Wouldn't respect you if you did," House says grinning.

Adam shakes his head.

"Come on cheer up," House says. "We get to do it all again tomorrow."

Adam nods and slows his gait. "I'm gonna go back to the office," Adam says. "See you in the morning."

House stops and turns around looking at Adam. "Welcome to the team," he says nodding before turning back around and following after Foreman and the others.

Adam turns around and heads back to the elevator. He takes it back down to the ground floor and limps to Cuddy's office. Adam goes in and sits down in a chair across from Cuddy's. Over a half an hour went by before Cuddy strolled into her office. She paused for a moment before shutting the door and walking over to her desk. Cuddy sat down on the end of her desk, crossed her legs, and turned her head looking at Adam. "Congratulations on your first case," she said smiling at Adam.

Adam shook his head. "It should have been solved days ago," he responded.

"You couldn't have known it was tick paralysis," Cuddy said.

"I knew," Adam said angrily. "I let the others push me around because I was new here. I should have stuck to my theory, been more assertive."

"Give yourself some credit," Cuddy said. "It was your first case. House and his people are all very strong willed. You'll get the hang of it." Cuddy got down and moved over to Adam putting her hand on his shoulder. "Go home and get some rest," Cuddy said. "Then come back and do it all again tomorrow."

Adam nodded, "I guess you're right." He stood up and looked at Cuddy. "Thanks," he said. Cuddy opened her arms and leaned in hugging Adam. "Mom," Adam finished.

Cuddy grinned and pulled away from Adam. "How many times have I told you to call me Lisa," Cuddy said. Adam chuckled and walked out of her office. Cuddy smiled and shook her head as Adam left.

A few hours later Wilson walks into House's office with his briefcase. He finds House sitting at his desk looking over some paperwork. "Tick paralysis, nice catch," Wilson says.

"Not my catch," House replied.

"So I heard," Wilson responds. "Looks like 'The Wolf's' cunning, applies to more than just the football field."

"It would seem so," House responded.

"You want to get a drink," Wilson asked.

"Yes," House said getting up and grabbing his jacket. A few minutes later the elevator opened revealing House and Wilson. They walked out to the front door. House stopped glancing at Cuddy, who is talking to one of the nurses in the clinic.

"You still haven't figured out her relationship to Adam yet have you," Wilson asked sighing.

House stood still and shook his head not turning his gaze.

"You're going to spy on her aren't you," Wilson asked.

House nodded once. "Yep," was his response. House turned and walked with Wilson out the front door zipping his jacket up.

"Well at least it will give you something else to work on," Wilson said.

The next day the team meets back in the ddx room. Foreman goes down to the ICU to recheck Sam. "Reflexes are back to normal," Foreman states examining Sam. "Heart's looking good too. I'll send in the nurse, we'll get you transferred out of ICU and you'll be discharged in the morning."

"Thank God," Sam said. "I just want to get home."

"And back to school on Monday," Donna said smiling at Sam.

"Mom, I'm not ready," Sam stammered.

"You're ready," Donna replied.

"But I'm sick Mom," Sam says.

"You're not sick," Donna said stroking Sam's hair. "You're going to go to class. And you're going to see your friends and your boyfriend." Donna kisses Sam on her forehead causing Foreman to smile.

Foreman leaves and gives one of the nurses outside his discharge instructions before going back upstairs where the rest of the team is. "She's looking good," Foreman said hanging up his lab coat on the coat rack.

"Nice catch," Thirteen said smiling and nodding at Adam who was standing by the white board.

"You mean outstanding first case," Chase said walking over to Adam and high fiving him.

"Did I miss something," Thirteen asked pointing back and forth between Adam and Chase. "Did you two bond or something?"

"Found out we were in the same Frat in med school," Chase said.

"Oh God," Thirteen said shaking her head.

"Drinks are on me tonight," Chase said.

"It's ten in the morning," Taub said twisting his coffee cup in his hand and obviously appalled that Chase is talking about alcohol so early.

"We'll go to that strip club you like," Chase said teasing Taub.

"What the hell, I'm in," Foreman said.

"All right," Chase said pointing at Taub.

"Fine, I'll go," Taub said.

"That's two out of three," Chase commented looking at Thirteen.

"Can't, you know," Thirteen said getting up from the table and leaving the ddx room.

"What's wrong with her," Adam asked confused.

"Apparently Thirteen had a drinking problem none of us knew about," Foreman said. "She ended up in rehab and was gone for about a year. She just got back a few weeks ago…" Foreman's voice trailed off as he became lost in thought.

"Did she tell you that," Adam asked.

"House kind of ratted on her," Chase said.

Meanwhile House was sitting on his couch looking at something on his laptop. He smiled as he popped a couple of vicodin.

The day went by without any complications. At the end of the day the team collected their things and began to leave the ddx room. "Did House come in at all today," Adam asked looking into his office.

"Case is over," Foreman said. "He'll be back when we get a new one." Adam nodded thinking about what Foreman said. "Welcome to Princeton Plainsburrow," Foreman said as they walked out the door.

"Where's Thirteen," Adam asked looking around.

"No idea," Taub said dismissingly. "Are we going? We're going to miss happy hour."

Chase laughed and put his arm around Adam's shoulder. "And he acted like he didn't want to go," Chase said.

"Ha ha very funny," Taub replied annoyed. "Can we go now?"

They all laughed and walked toward the elevator. Adam stopped for a second noticing Thirteen hiding behind a wall. Everyone except Adam got on the elevator when the door opened. "You coming," Chase asked Adam.

"Forgot something in the office," Adam said. "Y'all go ahead, I'll meet you there."

Foreman and the others laughed. "Y'aaaallll," Foreman repeated starting to laugh harder.

Adam smirked as the elevator doors closed. Once the others were gone Adam limped down the hall to where Thirteen was standing behind a pillar. "Sure you don't want to come," Adam asked.

Thirteen jumped at the sound of Adam's voice. She wiped her eyes and kept her back to Adam. "No, I've got some…other stuff to do," Thirteen stammered.

"It's just not a celebration without everyone there," Adam said.

Thirteen turned around and faced Adam. He could see she was upset. "Go, have a good time," Thirteen said nodding trying to put on a happy face.

"I know you don't have a drinking problem," Adam said.

Thirteen became wide eyed.

"Foreman and the others told me that's why you weren't coming," Adam said. "They also told me that House is the one who told them about your little problem. It's none of my business, I'm not trying to pry. But I know House likes to play games. So it's safe for me to assume that you are hiding something else."

Thirteen relaxed a little realizing Adam didn't know her secret. "How much do you know about us already," Thirteen asked.

"A lot, Cuddy told me all about y'all so I would be prepared," Adam responded.

"She's never done that for anyone else," Thirteen thought aloud. "How do you know Cuddy?"

"Sorry, can't tell you that, I know you could keep a secret, I just couldn't risk others hearing and explaining it to House. Cuddy and I have a little bet going to see how long it will take him to figure out."

Thirteen smiled, "I'm glad someone is finally giving him a taste of his own medicine. I try but since everyone else is just as nosy as he is it's difficult to keep anything secret."

"I understand," Adam said "Cuddy warned me about that. I won't ask you about what you're 'alcoholism' is covering up, but if you want to talk about it, I mean I'll trade my secret for yours."

Thirteen shook her head.

"You're a very mysterious person Thirteen, even still, I like you. You seem to care about your patients more than the rest of the team. You don't judge others and you treat everyone equally. Something someone like me appreciates. I hope one day we will be friends instead of colleagues. And friends go out and have drinks to celebrate."

Thirteen didn't reply, just smiled politely. Adam slowly turned and limped away towards the elevator. Thirteen put her hands in her coat pockets and watched as he waited for an elevator.

"If you change your mind please come by," Adam said.

Thirteen continued to smile and nodded at Adam he knew she wouldn't come, but the fact that she seemed grateful about the persisted invitation caused him to smile back. The elevator door opened and Adam nodded at Thirteen before disappearing from her view.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hope you are all enjoying. Just a few things I wanted to mention.

Firstly I realized many of you may not know how to pronounce Adam's last name. I chose to use the American translation of Trzaska pronounced (traska) as if the "z" was silent. There are other pronunciations but this is the one I am using.

Secondly what does everyone think about Adam? Please let me know by reviews or personal messages.

**Spoiler alert! If you don't want to know anything other than what I have written about Adam and Cuddy's relationship please stop here, but some of my beta readers asked me a little about it because they didn't like the possibility of this being a "Cuddy's Secret Child" fic. If you want to know more read on.**

I didn't realize many people have written stories about Cuddy having a secret child, this is not the case for my story. However, Adam calling Cuddy "Mom" does have an important significance which will be revealed later.

Also after this episode I will follow season 7 canon and then go into where season 8 would start.

Thank you all for reading. Will try to update as soon as possible. All feedback welcome.


	5. Changes Part 1

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>It's a bright morning in a quiet suburb of Pennsylvania. A man wearing a grey suit and holding a flower bouquet checks an address on a piece of paper, and then walks to a door, clearly nervous. He rings the doorbell and waits. Soon after a blonde woman opens the door.<p>

"Jennifer Williams," the man asks.

"And you are," the blonde responds confused.

"Cyrus," the man replies. "Cyrus Harry? You used to call me Cy if…if it's really you."

The woman tries to close the door. "I…I'm trying to find the Jennifer Williams I knew 23 years ago," Cyrus says. "We spent a long weekend at the Jersey Shore? She was visiting a friend…" The blonde-haired woman shakes her head and closes the door. Cyrus sighs disappointed and walks back toward his car. He reaches in his pocket, pulls out a sheet of paper and crosses a name off it. Several names are already crossed off. His car is a long, white limousine. Waiting next to it is a chauffeur, a guitar player, and many flower bushes that have been strategically placed on the lawn.

"That lasted longer than usual," the chauffeur said.

"That's it for Lansdale," Cyrus says to everyone around him. "Pack it up. Let's move on to Philly." The chauffeur takes one of the bouquets nearest him, groans and starts to carry it toward the trunk. "Seriously Phil, you gonna complain," Cyrus asks. "How many limo drivers are making six figures?"

"Cy, you're my little cousin, and I love you, and you've been more than generous," Phil replies. "I'm upset because you are wasting your time over some faded memory when there is a world of pleasure out there. The kind of cash you got buys a lot of it." Phil opens the trunk. Cyrus doesn't move; he looks sick. "Come on…don't be like that. I've just been driving around all day. I'm a little cranky." Cyrus stumbles and suddenly falls. "Hey!"

"My leg won't move," Cyrus says.

The blonde woman opens the door after hearing the shouting and steps out of her house towards the two men.

"Are you gonna stare, or are you gonna call 911," Phil yells at the woman.

At the hospital the team is sitting in their usual seats in the ddx room except that on this particular morning Foreman is sitting in the chair closest to House's office instead of the one against the wall. Adam took the empty chair on Foreman's right. This placed him in between Foreman and Taub as well as across from Thirteen who is on Chase's right. House walks in and hands them each the same file.

"Partial paralysis," House announces. "Head CT and LP showed nothing. Spinal MRIs and EMG were clean. Brain symptom, yet nothing seems to be wrong with his brain." House walks over to the coffee pot in the corner and makes himself a cup.

"Refrigerator mechanic, no family, in and out of work," Chase says.

"He just won $42 million in the state lottery," Taub says. "I think I read about this lucky bastard in the paper."

"You sure you don't mean the lucky bastard whose grandkids snorted his winnings till he drank himself to death with drain cleaner," House asks. "Or the lucky bastard who was found naked and penniless in a strip club parking lot with his winning number tattooed on both testicles?"

"I remember that guy with the tattoos," Adam says looking through the file.

"Neuro-otological pathology could have caused loss of balance," Thirteen says.

House sits down at the table. "Calorics were normal," he replies.

"Sure, some people will screw up anything, but some won't," Taub says. "That kind of cash, he has a chance to turn a miserable life around."

"If I won the lottery it's not going to take the pain away in my leg," Adam responds. "It's not gonna make House any better." It wouldn't have fixed your marriage," he said to Taub. "And it's not gonna fix Thirteen's alcoholism," Adam said winking at Thirteen. She returned his wink with a glare.

"Miserable stays miserable," House says. "Happy doesn't buy lottery tickets in the first place."

"Our level of happiness is set," Thirteen says. "It's in our DNA. No cash payout's gonna change that."

"It's like there's two of me," House says.

"The guy repairs appliances," Foreman says. "He's probably got toxic brain damage from years of working with toxic chemicals."

"Or his sudden disease came from his sudden millions," Taub retorts. "He's buying something, collecting something, ceramics, precious metals, which gave him atherosclerosis of his carotid arteries.

At this moment Cuddy enters and stands facing House from the other side of the table. A very serious look on her face.

"My mother's lawyer called," Cuddy says. "She's threatening to sue the hospital over our mistreatment of her. She says it slowed her recovery."

"You know, I was just thinking how much I want a relationship with no sex, but where I still have to deal with your mother," House said smiling sarcastically. "Go to the patient's old workshop. Look for causes of toxic brain damage. Go take a new history, and see if there's any lifestyle changes that would explain atherosclerosis." House gets up from his chair and walks toward his office. He looks at Cuddy while opeing the door, "Go." House enters his office and Cuddy follows him. House pops a pill. "Medicinal," he says. "I'm expecting a shooting pain in my ass." Meanwhile his team has left the ddx room and gone to perform the tasks assigned to them.

"My mom and I got into a fight," Cuddy begins. "Because of our replacement hip replacement, she can barely get around her own house. I told her she has to live with me while she recovers."

"Oh, I'm starting to get the connection," House says sitting down at his desk. "Yeah, she has a house, my name is House."

"You're the doctor that treated her," Cuddy responds. "That illegally switched her meds after she fired you, that went behind the back of her actual doctor."

"Those beads from Thailand," House says interrupting. Cuddy gives him a non-understanding look. "I thought we were listing all the things that you pressured me into."

"The point is you're the one who's on the line here, whose name is on her hospital records," Cuddy says.

"Whose name is on her name," House asks.

"Fine, we're both on the line, but she won't discuss this with me alone," Cuddy says annoyed. "She and her lawyer want to meet with both of us for settlement talks. I need you in that meeting acting nice and respectful while I defuse this stunt."

House gets up from his desk and starts to leave the room. "Yeah well, I'm not going to that meeting, so I'm guessing you're cool if I'm not nice and respectful either," he says leaving.

Meanwhile Taub is taking a new history in Cyrus's room. Phil helps him lie back in his bed.

"Picked up any new hobbies," Taub asks.

"How's a hobby gonna paralyze my left leg," Cyrus questions.

"If you work on vintage cars or you've taken up painting, the fumes can…" Taub started.

"No cars, no paints," Cyrus said shaking his head.

Taub looks around at several bouquets of flowers in the room. "You're a popular guy," Taub said.

"Popular wallet," Cyrus said. "Three years ago before I had a dime, I had my appendix out. Phil was there. No one else even called."

"What about drugs," Taub asked.

"No drugs," Cyrus said. "Look, I've seen all the documentaries; I've read all the articles. I'm not gonna be a tabloid cliché. I know what I'm gonna do with my money."

"Find and build a life with the one woman I ever cared for," Phil said somewhat mockingly.

"The point is nothing's changed," Cyrus interrupted. "I live the same life. I eat the same food."

"Same crappy canned food," Phil interjected.

"How many of your meals do you eat from a can," Taub asked.

"Most of 'em," Cyrus replied. "I'm used to it. I order 'em by the case online. Is that bad?"

While Taub is working on the new history, Chase, Foreman, and Adam are investigating Cyrus' old workshop.

"You're worried about the trickledown effect of Cuddy versus House versus Cuddy," Chase said to Foreman. It wasn't a question.

"You're reading subtext into my silence," Foreman asked.

"House gets to you more than anyone," Chase replied.

"House thinks I'm a robot," Foreman said. "You think I'm a wuss?"

"No, no, no, no. I think you're repressed," Chase said back. "Well, it's out of your control. Tough childhood, strained relations with your family. Can't be easy trying to succeed in a white man's world."

"I second the notion that you're repressed," Adam said chuckling.

"First of all, white man, I've done at least as well as you have," Foreman replied ignoring Adam's comment. "Second, I'm not surprised by Adam's attitude but I didn't think you'd take House's view that life sucks and we're stuck."

"I think you're stuck," Chase said. "Last month or so I've turned my life around. I'm happier than ever."

"You sleeping with ten women now instead of four," Foreman asked.

"Try none," Chase replied. Foreman looks suspiciously at Chase. "He was cutting metal… probably inhaled the dust."

"Not unless he was snorting lines of the stuff," Adam said.

"None," Foreman asked Chase.

"Was having tons of sex, and I was bored, hating myself," Chase replied moving some things around. "Was never gonna be ready when something real came along."

"So you're becoming some kind of super monk, and I can't change at all," Foreman said sighing.

"I challenge you to go one differential without House or anyone else getting under your skin," Chase stated.

"Since I say nothing gets to me and you won't take me at my word, how am I supposed to prove you wrong," Foreman asked.

"I guess you can't," Chase said shrugging. "I hope that doesn't eat at you."

"Look at this," Adam said from across the shop. "Off-brand solvent, from China. Adam throws it to Foreman. "Made of God knows what," Adam stated.

Chase and Foreman nodded at each other satisfied.

The team is following House out of the clinic discussing the differential as they walk towards the elevator.

"Patient eats cheap canned goods by the caseload," Taub states. "Could be metal poisoning?"

"He also worked with cut-rate chemicals," Chase said. "Could be inhalation of a toxic volatile substrate."

"Treatment for both is chelation," Thirteen says.

"Great work," House says. "Alkalinize his urine and force diuresis for heavy metal poisoning.

If that doesn't work, put him on dialysis for toxic inhalation." House uses his cane to push the up call button for the elevator.

"But Thirteen just said treatment for both is chelation," Adam commented looking at House puzzled.

"And I said force diuresis and try dialysis," House snapped back. "You need a transcript?"

"You want to put him on dialysis, risk infection and hemodynamic swings when we can just chelate," Foreman asked.

"Whoa, whoa, settle down," Chase said.

"If we chelate, we're not gonna know what disease he had," House answered Foreman. "Which means we're not gonna know if the problem was in his lousy old job or his still-lousy new life. Which for the purposes of a metaphorical argument is very important."

Foreman opens his mouth to argue, then thinks better of it. "Pointless to argue," he says. "He's the boss. He needs his puzzle solved. Why bang our heads against the wall? Taub and Chase look back and forth at each other speechless.

House looks at Foreman puzzled. He steps onto the elevator when the doors open and turns to Chase. "When you're done with the patient, treat Foreman by banging his head against the wall."

Taub and Thirteen walk towards the patient's room.

"Where's the dialysis machine," Taub asks just before entering the room.

"Who cares since I ordered chelation," Thirteen replies. "We'll flip a coin; tell House it was one disease or the other. Worst case, he finds out and he's impressed we defied him." She turns to the nurse wheeling equipment out of the room. "I'm sorry. I asked you to remove the dialysis equipment, not the chelation equipment."

"And Dr. Cuddy asked me to remove all equipment," the nurse replied. "She de-authorized all treatment."

Thirteen and Taub take this information back to House. When they walked into his office they find Adam sitting across from House who is sitting in behind his desk rolling a vicodin bottle between his fingers.

"She won't let us make a move until you agree to a sit-down with the godmother and her consigliore," Thirteen says standing in front of House.

"Bitch to king four," House says with a look of deep thought on his face.

"Checkmate," Taub replies rolling his eyes. "Patient can't use his leg. You have to concede."

"Or I could just knock all the pieces onto the floor," House says smiling.

Thirteen and Taub roll their eyes as they turn around and leave House's office. House looks at Adam. "Go, make sure it gets done." Adam stands up and limps out catching up to Taub and Thirteen. They walk down the hall in silence and enter Cyrus' room. Thirteen starts removing the different monitors from Cyrus' body.

"You're discharging me," Cyrus asks.

"We really…don't have a good lie here, so…" Taub stammers.

"You got caught in some politics between our boss and his boss," Thirteen says filling in for Taub. "But you'll be out of here 20 minutes tops."

"I'm not better, but you're kicking me out," Cyrus asks still confused.

"Which is why it'll only be 20 minutes," Thirteen responds. "See, the Dean of Medicine  
>acts tough, but she's not really. She'll step in, readmit you."<p>

"So you're saying that she cares more about his treatment than the doctor who's actually treating him," Phil asks confused.

"No, we're saying this has nothing to do with his treatment," Adam states. "We're just calling her bluff."

"I don't understand," Phil continues.

Cyrus sits up in bed and looks at the door to his room. "Phil, shut up," Cyrus says. A blonde woman in her late 30's, wearing glasses, is smiling at him.

"Cyrus," the woman says walking into the room.

"Jennifer," Cyrus asks hopefully.

"It's good to see you," Jennifer says. "I read about you in the paper, so I hopped the first train from Virginia."

"So you read that he struck it rich," Phil corrects.

Thirteen, Taub, and Adam look at each other and then back at Jennifer.

"He's right," Jennifer says. "It, it must look weird. It kind of is weird. Well, we're a long way from the third street jetty. I just wanted to see you again and say hi, so… Hi."

"Hi," Cyrus says back. "I was starting to think I'd never find my…"

"Baby Bear," Jennifer finishes.

Cyrus smiles, as does Jennifer as she walks over to Cyrus' bedside. They hug, and Cyrus suddenly throws up on her. She backs away startled and looks disgusted.

"Oh, my God. I'm, I'm so sorry," Cyrus quickly says. "I'm so sorry. I,I don't even feel nauseous. I don't know why…"

"Your hand is shaking," Thirteen says pulling a penlight from her pocket. She shakes his eyes with the light. "It's okay. You're having a focal seizure."

"What does that mean," Phil asks.

"It means you're not getting discharged," Taub says.

Adam, Thirteen, and Taub get Cyrus stabilized and return to House's office where they find him lying on his couch, reading Celeb.

"We were right that it's a brain issue, but wrong about toxic inhalation and metal poisoning," Taub states. "Everyone else is waiting…"

"That was totally courageous of Khloe to Tweet about her weight gain," House interrupts looking up from his magazine.

"House, I've got a patient with a seizure disorder who can't walk," Taub says angrily.

House lowers his head and continues reading. "Another one? Thought we kicked out the last one."

"We were going to until he started seizing," Adam said.

At that moment Cuddy enters House's office with an irritated look on her face. "Obviously I'll let you treat your patient."

House sits up. "What are you doing," House asks. "We've got a patient with a walking disorder who can't seize. No, wait. I'm close, though, right?"

"I wasn't finished," Cuddy replied. "Of course I'll let you treat your patient if you meet me halfway."

House lies down again. "Well, I guess I'm not finished either."

"No clinic hours for the next quarter," Cuddy says baiting House.

"Yeah, three parking spots, next to each other, so I can park diagonally, and three pairs of your underwear," House counter offers. "I'm thinking of taking up sailing."

"Forget it," Cuddy says shaking her head. "Treat your patient, don't treat your patient. Come to the meeting, don't come to the meeting. I'm done playing your game." Cuddy turns around and walks out the door.

"You realize the game is automatically over when the loser loses, right," House yells as Cuddy leaves.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the long delay. Been very busy. Hopefully the next chapters will come much faster.**


	6. Changes Part 2

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Later in the Diagnostics Office, everyone has reassembled to go over a new differential. Chase is taking Foreman' blood pressure while he speaks.<p>

"Neurological Lyme disease explains the seizures and the paralysis," Foreman says.

"But not the fact that Chase seems to be treating you," House responds while walking around.

"He claims he can swear off sex indefinitely," Foreman replies shaking his head. "Also claims that I am a boiling cauldron of repressed rage." Taub smiles slightly at this.

House stops in front of Foreman, leans forward and watches the monitor screen. "Your theory is idiotic," he says to Foreman. "The patient's antibody titers were negative for Lyme disease. And I shared a motel room with your ex-girlfriend." Foreman's blood pressure remains steady, while Thirteen tilts her head a little puzzled.

"You make a good point about the antibody titers," Foreman says nodding his head.

"He's a rock," House says mockingly. "How's your brother, homeless guy? Haven't heard from him in months!"

"I don't know," Foreman responds calmly. "Wish I did." There is still no change in the bp monitor.

"Postural hypotension, which could have reduced the blood supply to his brain," Adam says while fingering through the patient file.

"He'd be a miserable wretch," House says.

"Actually, the prognosis is…" Taub starts.

"Oh, I'm sorry," House says. "No, I just meant his life is gonna unravel. In fairness, that applies to any diagnosis. Why do we do this?"

"It's not postural hypotension," Thirteen replies. "He's not orthostatic."

"His life may unravel, it may not," Taub says. "He's not chasing after material things."

"Too bad, he might actually get those," Adam says.

"He's looking for love," Taub says. "Just tracked down an old girlfriend."

"And she'll never live up to the memory, and the thrill of finding her will wear off, and he won't even be able to dream about being happy," Thirteen says.

"Interesting," House says.

"Maybe, maybe not," Adam says. "Why do you assume a piece of his past can't make him happy?"

"The patient may have found some long-ago nookie, but it doesn't mean he hasn't had some in the meantime," Thirteen says bluntly. "Herpes encephalitis."

"Explains the neurological symptoms," House says. "EEG to confirm, I.V. acyclovir to treat. How's Foreman's BP holding?"

"Same," Chase replies.

"That's strange," House says. "Since I unplugged the lead 30 seconds ago." Everyone looks at Foreman surprised. "Admirable effort though." Foreman takes the blood pressure device off and starts to leave. House steps in front of him. "And I'm not just saying that 'cause I'm scared you might turn green and rip through your own clothes." Everyone files out with Thirteen being last. House blocks her with his cane.

"Down on the patient's romance because your own lifespan is shorter than dinner and a movie," House asks.

"You're the one who said miserable stays miserable," Thirteen shot back.

"You keep saying it, several times a day," House says a hint of concern in his voice.

"Hey, I love being back, having every theory you and I share used as proof of my own personal damage," Thirteen says before leaving the room.

Meanwhile in the MRI room, Cyrus and Jennifer are happily chatting.

"I'm afraid we'll need you to step out when the EEG begins," Thirteen says to Jennifer. "The waiting area's just down the hall."

"I got to catch an early train in the morning anyway," Jennifer says smiling.

"No, don't," Cyrus responds. Thirteen starts placing electrodes on his forehead. "I'll put you up in a nice hotel, or rent you a furnished place."

"I came for the night 'cause I wanted to see how you were," Jennifer said. "Maybe get back in your life a bit, but if I take your money…"

"What's wrong with a nice place to stay," Cyrus asks. "Unless of course, you don't want to stay."

"I guess I could keep my motel room another night or two," Jennifer replies smiling. Cyrus smiles back at her before she leaves the room.

Back upstairs House walks into Wilson' office, carrying a scan.

"Need a consult," House says. "Did an EEG on my patient. Turns out the reason that prior doctors thought it wasn't a neuro problem is because it's not a neuro problem. The EEG did show signs of metabolic distress."

"Well, scan his abdomen," Wilson says simply.

"Yeah, let's assume we'd already figured that out on our own, and found a mass on the pancreas," House responds handing the scan to Wilson, who takes a look.

"Mass looks solid," Wilson responds staring at the image. "I'd say it's cancer. Paraneoplastic syndrome would explain the neurological symptoms. You need to get a piece of it. Schedule a CT-guided biopsy."

"Yeah, let's assume we'd already figured that out on our own," House responds back.

"Then what's this consult," Wilson asks confused.

"Why haven't you been yelling at me about the Cuddy twins," House asks.

"Because you're doing the right thing," Wilson replies.

"Are we talking about the same issue," House asks. "Is there something I don't know about that I'm responding to appropriately?"

"Cuddy wants you in the middle of this," Wilson says. "So does Arlene. Because they don't want to face their own problem. Somehow, in your knee-jerk, juvenile way, you tripped and fell into an actual adult response to this."

House sits down and thinks. "You're right," he responds. "That was Cuddy's strategy all along. She wanted me to think that she desperately needed me to be there so that I wouldn't be there." Wilson sighs while House pops a vicodin.

A little later Cuddy is sitting and waiting in a meeting room. Cut to a meeting room. Arlene's lawyer enters and holds the door for her. She comes in leaning on a crutch.

"Where is Dr. House," Arlene's lawyer asks.

"I didn't want him here," Cuddy responds. Arlene's lawyer moves a chair for her to sit. "This isn't about her treatment at Princeton-Plainsboro. It's about the fight we had last week. I'd like a moment with my mother to try and work this out on our own."

"I'm afraid my client doesn't want to…" the lawyer starts.

"It's Mother's Day Sunday," Cuddy interrupts. "We can't have five minutes alone to fix this?"

"Relax," Arlene says. "You can still bill me for the time standing in the hallway." The lawyer leaves.

"I know you're mad at me, but you can barely make it up those stairs," Cuddy says. "How many nights have you spent on your couch?"

"This has nothing to do with our fight," Arlene responds.

"We're talking about my home, not a prison camp," Cuddy says.

"What did I just say? I think it was something about this not being personal," Arlene says irritated.

"You can spend time with Rachel. I can watch over you. Win, win," Cuddy says simply.

"Maybe I've got a medical thing," Arlene says. "Maybe I just think I'm talking, but no one can hear me, not just my uncaring daughter."

"What do you want," Cuddy asks.

"Twenty grand," Arlene says flatly. "I'll hire help and forget this nightmare you put me thr… make it thirty. I'll put in a stair lift."

"If my board even hears about these threats, let alone a settlement, they'll investigate what happened while you were here as a patient," Cuddy says. "House and I could both lose our license. I've been assuming this is personal because I don't want to assume that was what my mother wants." Arlene remains quiet. House enters loudly, carrying a surgery tray with a hip prothesis inside, which he throws on the table.

"House," Arlene says glaring at him.

"Ex-not-mom-in-law," House responds.

"You said you weren't coming," Cuddy states looking confused at House.

"After you said pretty please with sugar on top," House says. "Problem is we only give store credit, so I say we put your old, cracked poisonous hip back in. Here and now, I saved your life. Happy to un-save it."

"He is being an ass," Cuddy says to her mother. "If I could join you in suing him…"

"She's like this in bed too," House interrupts. "Always scheming to get the lawyers out of the room."

Arlene stands up and turns to leave. "If House isn't going to take this seriously, I know a few judges who will," Arlene says leaving.

House turns to Cuddy, "Was I supposed to be the good cop?"

Meanwhile Taub and Foreman are performing an MRI.

I had to rig the monitor," Foreman says. Taub tries not to laugh. "I had a lot of salt with breakfast. You think I'm repressed too?"

"I think you're in danger of being dissolved by your own stomach acids," Taub responds.

"Well, what about Chase," Foreman asks. "Believe all that nonsense about him being celibate?"

"Don't know, but I'm rooting for him," Taub says watching the scan. "Read the studies. The fewer partners you have, the happier you are with your ultimate partner."

"Hmm, then you're gonna be miserable," Foreman responds.

"Those studies, it's important that they have a control group," Taub stammers. "There's the tumor on his pancreas," Taub says matter-of-factly.

"There's one on his kidney and one in his colon," Foreman says.

"One looks avascular, one looks vascular," Taub says. "The third looks calcified."

"He has three completely different cancers at once," Foreman says.

"On average, not so lucky after all," Taub states.

Wilson meets House coming out of the meeting room and walks to the elevator with him.

"You had to go all Wile E. Coyote on me," Wilson says.

"You told me that Arlene wanted me in the middle of it," House says. "I had to show her that no good would come of that."

"Seriously? That's your rationalization," Wilson asks. They leave the elevator and walk to House's office. "How about you didn't like that Cuddy tricked you? Even though you wanted the same thing as her. You didn't like that she got the best of you. You've got more anger toward her than you realize."

"I'm happier without her," House says flatly. "I'm not stupidly expecting her to make me happy. I'm happier with my unhappiness," he says as he pops a Vicodin.

"Do you listen to what you're saying," Wilson asks. "Because I have to. I'm holding a summit meeting to force you and Cuddy onto the same page before a lawsuit gets filed."

House breaks off their pace together and enters the Diagnostics office. Foreman is wearing the blood pressure monitor again.

"Three completely unrelated cancers at once," Taub announces.

"Multi-cancer syndrome — Von Hippel Lindau," Thirteen says unsure.

"Wouldn't have touched his colon," Chase says. He looks over the machine, puts his right hand on the Merck's Diagnosis manual and swears. "I hereby certify that Dr. Foreman has not tampered with this blood pressure mechanism in any way."

"And after I prove I'm 100% stress free, do I get to strap you into a chastity belt," Foreman asks.

"What if the patient's missing a tumor-suppressor gene," Adam asks.

"How would we even find it," Foreman asks. "We need to blast him with chemo now."

"We can't give the patient chemo," Adam says. "His platelet count's through the floor."

"Even worse, it'd contain his cancers," House says. "If we want to know what they have in common, we got to see where they spread next."

"You want to wait six months while the cancer spreads and his seizures and paralysis get worse," Thirteen asks.

"Well, now, that's crazy talk," House responds. "But if we pump the patient full of vascular endothelial growth factor…"

"Oh Foreman doesn't like that idea," Chase says. They all check the monitor. Foreman's blood pressure is indeed higher.

Foreman takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, speaking slowly. "You want to grow more and bigger cancers," Foreman asks.

"We can't figure out what three small ones have in common, maybe can figure out what eight big ones have in common," House states.

Foreman glances at the monitor, his pressure is climbing. "Is this idea real, or are you just threatening to kill the patient to screw with me," Foreman asks. No one answers him. His blood pressure keeps climbing. He takes the device off and starts speaking louder and louder. "This whole thing is idiotic. What does it matter what's inside of me if I know how to control it?"

"Makes no difference to us, but you may want to make out a will," Adam says.

"Go get lotto boy's consent, and turn his cancers up to 11," House says. They leave, except Thirteen, who House blocks yet again. He shows her a photograph.

"You, what, found my old yearbook, and got a picture of my high school boyfriend," Thirteen asks.

"Actually, that would have been a lot simpler," House responds. "No, I took this ten minutes ago." He steps aside, revealing the guy sitting outside the office, smiling. "Your high school boyfriend who dumped you, leaving you unable to believe that anyone can rekindle an old flame."

"He dumped me after I hooked up with his sister," Thirteen corrected.

House looks puzzled for a second. "Would you mind letting him down gently? I might have made promises you can't keep." Thirteen rolls her eyes before leaving the room.

Outside the office, down the hall, Adam is watching the encounter between House and Thirteen. He has a confused look on his face and is deep in thought.


	7. Changes Part 3

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>A little later, Thirteen met up with Adam and Taub in Cyrus' room. Jennifer and Phil are with him.<p>

"We're giving you more cancer," Taub states. "The risks of that are kind of obvious."

"We'll scan you and run your blood at frequent intervals," Thirteen says. "We believe this is our best chance at finding the underlying genetic flaw." They hand Cyrus the consent form.

Cyrus looks at the consent form for a second. He then looks at Jennifer. "Will you marry me?"

Thirteen, Adam, and Taub look at each other and then back at the scene in front of them.

"Don't be stupid," Jennifer replies flabbergasted.

"If this cancer overwhelms me, at least I'll die happy here and now, instead of hoping for a future I may never have," Cyrus says calmly. "I love you."

"No, you don't," Jennifer says. "You don't know. You can't know. We both need more time. And I believe we're gonna have it."

Taub, Adam, and Thirteen leave and are talking in the PPTH lobby.

"Do you notice she's wearing different clothes every day," Thirteen asks Taub.

"As opposed to the same, Starfleet-issued tunic," Taub asks back.

"She said she came for one night," Thirteen says thinking aloud. "Why'd she pack for more?"

"So she stuffed an extra sweatshirt in her bag, or she bought something," Taub says.

"Used," Thirteen asks. "She's here because an old beau struck gold."

"She turned down a proposal," Adam reflected. "How long a game you think she's playing?"

"I think if she said yes after 14 hours, even he'd be suspicious," Thirteen responded.

"You're lucky you're hot and smart, because…well, you're just lucky you're hot and smart," Taub says.

She rolls her eyes.

"It's not impossible to know you love someone right away," Adam says. "If people would get out of their own way and not worry about all the stupid stuff, love would be much easier." Adam trailed off. He looked down and bounced his cane off the floor. Taub and Thirteen looked at each other not sure what to make of Adam's comment.

Later that night, House enters his office. He opens his drawer to retrieve something and notices Foreman in the outer office, folded in two, holding a yoga pose. House walks in giving him a stupid look.

Foreman looks over still with his legs folded over his head. "I need a hooker."

"Not if you can make that work," House responds.

Foreman gives up and sits. "How is that supposed to relax you," Foreman says in disbelief. "It's not for me. It's for Chase."

"I'm saving myself too," House responds. "Maybe you should get a couple."

"You're riding me. Why not ride him," Foreman asks.

"Because I can get a rise out of your BP," House replies simply. "His pee-pee on the other hand… Forget yoga. Embrace Zen. You're a repressed idiot. He's a horny idiot. Neither one of you can do anything about it. Pretty sure that's Zen."

The next day House is lying in a patient's bed eating in his socks. His portable TV is on. Wilson and Cuddy enter the room, look startled at the view of a coma patient lying on the floor. They notice House's shoes at the foot of the bed, but don't say anything.

"Thought we were meeting in Cuddy's office," House asked curious at how they found him.

"And I put one of the radio frequency tagged sponges from the O.R. in your portable television," Wilson says back.

"However much it hurt, I did have a right to break up with you," Cuddy states.

"You just want everything to have a hidden personal agenda," House says.

"You need to get over it instead of torpedoing our jobs out of spite," Cuddy responds.

"Couldn't just be that you're a pain professionally," House says back.

"Stop," Wilson shouts cutting them both off. "You're both at fault here. You for trying to manipulate House when you used to know better, and you for… being you, which is an especially bad idea under the circumstances."

"I had good reasons," House says.

"You had lame rationalizations," Wilson replies.

"If I hadn't played him, he'd have found out about the meeting and crashed it anyway," Cuddy defends.

"Would have been a lot more efficient," House retorts.

"Enough," Wilson shouts again. "Okay, here's what's gonna happen. Tomorrow I drive both of you to Arlene's. You're gonna write her a personal check for $30,000, and tell her she can stay in her own home with your blessing. You're gonna do this because you actually give a crap about your job and this hospital and your mother, and possibly even House." Wilson then looks at House. "And you're gonna say, I'm sorry, and not utter one syllable more."

"Because I'm an idiot," House asks.

"No, because if you don't, I'm gonna tell the pharmacy to stop issuing Vicodin prescriptions in my name," Wilson responds glaring at House.

"I'm not paying for gas," House says.

Meanwhile Thirteen is examining Cyrus in his room.

"Anything look different," Cyrus asks.

"Not yet," she responds. "Where's Jennifer?"

"She's embezzling money from my Swiss bank account," Cyrus responds seriously. "That's what you think, isn't it? I'm being taken for a ride?"

Thirteen is slightly shocked by the accusation. "I think she wouldn't be here if you were still fixing refrigerators. One random set of numbers doesn't change human nature."

"Those sets of numbers are what kept me going," Cyrus says. "Clutching those tickets, thinking about the life I could have, finding Jennifer again."

"So you figure if one long-shot dream came true the other one will as well," Thirteen asks.

"You think you're protecting me," Cyrus asks. "I think you're sad. Can't stand to see somebody happy."

Later that day, House, Cuddy and Wilson are standing in front of Arlene's door waiting for her to answer it. The door opens and Arlene stares at the three people in front of him.

"Mom, here's a check, Cuddy says. "It's a settlement for all you've been through. Of course you can stay in your home. It was wrong of me to suggest otherwise." She slips away. Arlene smiles at House, waiting.

"I'm sorry," House says. "That we saved your life…in the way that we did."

"B-plus," Wilson says. "I hope this resolves everything. I can tell you that both your daughter and Dr. House…"

"This is thirty grand," Arlene says.

"Which is what you asked for," Wilson says confused.

"This covers pain and suffering," Arlene says. "What about the probate lawyer?"

"Do you two…" Wilson starts.

"I have to change my will, leave everything to Julia so this one doesn't try more funny business to get control of my home," Arlene says.

"I'm sure we can toss in another twenty-five hundred," Wilson says.

"Well, I guess I'll have to kill you tonight then," Cuddy says. "Mom, I'm not interested in…"

"You already think you own my body," Arlene says. "Why not my home too?"

"Everybody stay calm, and…" Wilson starts.

"You have to lash out at everyone who tries to help you," Cuddy interrupts. "Live in your own kitchen sink for all I care."

"Harsh. I didn't think you had a case before, but that is no way to talk to a patient," House says to Arlene.

"You are right," Arlene says. She rips the check up and closes the door.

Meanwhile in the PPTH lobby, Foreman, Taub, and Adam are watching Chase getting friendly with a pretty blonde nurse. While they speak, we can see Chase and the nurse doing exactly what Foreman is describing.

"Chase has had his eyes on this one for months," Foreman says.

"Meaning he has eyes," Taub questions.

"So what, she's hot," Adam says.

"So, I paid her 100 bucks," Foreman says smiling. "When he hits on her, might be tonight, might be next week, she's gonna slap him and storm off."

"So your plan is to prove you're both full of crap all in one move, Taub asked.

"First he'll compliment her hair. That's how he breaks the ice," Foreman says. "Next comes some kind of joke or story. He's sharpening his harpoon."

"Are my moves this predictable," Taub asks a hint of concern in his voice.

Adam laughs at Taub's comment.

"She's grabbing his arm. He's going in for the kill," Foreman narrates. The nurse leaves Chase, goes to Foreman, slaps him in the face and gives him his money back. Foreman turns to Chase, who just noticed Foreman standing in the hall. Chase smiles and waves at him.

Taub pats Foreman's arm. "Don't let it get to you," he says.

By this time, Adam is laughing hysterically. "Don't make him angry," Adam says to Taub as they walk away. "You wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Taub laughs at Adam's joke.

An hour later Taub is performing an ultrasound in Cyrus' room. He looks worse. Jennifer is holding his hand.

"Poured a lot of gas on the fire. Ultrasound will give us a good look at the damage," Taub says. "Little more gel."

"I never made a will," Cyrus says. "I want to provide for you, if I don't…"

"Stop it, will you," Jennifer says.

"Like you to hold your breath for a sec," Taub says.

"Your money, there's charities, causes, your family," Jennifer says. "You got to ask yourself what's mattered to you most year in and year out."

"That can't be right," Taub says.

"Is it bad news," Cyrus asks.

"No. We've been pumping you with growth factor, but you don't have any new cancers," Taub says. "The tumors you had all shrank."

A few minutes later, the team regrouped in the diagnostics office for a new differential. Chase is setting up the blood pressure monitor, again.

"Three tumors disappearing means we were probably wrong about him missing a tumor-suppressor gene," Foreman says.

"How many mulligans are you gonna ask for," Chase questions.

"This test is what raised my blood pressure," Foreman responds. "I'm used to it now." He takes deep breaths and waves his arms. "Go. If it's autoimmune and he created antibodies that ended up fighting his own tumors…"

"Growth factor would have made the underlying autoimmune condition better," Adam says.

"Maybe it was never cancer in the first place," Taub suggests.

"Of course it was cancer," Foreman says annoyed. "We biopsied…" He glances at the monitor and calms down. "It could have been a false positive."

"Amyloidosis," Thirteen suggests. "His EKG voltage has been on the low end of normal. What if the tumors were actually protein deposits?"

"G.I. biopsy to confirm, chemo to treat," House says sitting on a bench leaning against the glass wall.

"She's making that diagnosis based off of low-normal EKG," Foreman says. "Low-normal is still normal." His blood pressure is rising. "That thing cannot be right."

"Low-normal is still low," House says. "And that thing does not have money riding on you being wrong, like the rest of us do."

"Chase fixed this," Foreman shouted.

"Oh, I think you're confusing Chase and Foreman," Thirteen snipes. "I used to do that all the time."

Adam laughs as he watches the personal dynamics of the team. Taking it all in.

"I know it's rigged," Foreman argues back. His blood pressure is still rising.

"Because you're Mr. Cool," Taub asks. "Nothing could possibly faze…"

"Because I took a beta blocker," Foreman shouts. The team is quite for a moment and they all shift their gaze to Chase. Chase shows them the remote he's been hiding. "Both times, right?" Chase nods. "His platelet count's still low. Chemo's still a death sentence. Treating for amyloid with normal EKG is like doing heart surgery on a guy because he's ten pounds overweight. It's insane."

"Well, we'll do it your way," House says. "Go shout at the patient till he gets better. G.I. biopsy to confirm, chemo to treat." The team files out of the ddx room. House uses the handle of his cane to grab Thirteen's arm on her way out.

"Here's the dirty little secret," Thirteen starts not waiting for House to say anything. "I just think we are who we are. And I think lotteries are stupid." She walks out.

A moment later Adam walks back in, "She's not an alcoholic."

"I'm not a marathon runner," House responds. "Sorry, thought we were listing obvious things." He stands up and limps to his office.

Adam follows him. "Every time we've had a differential today you've stopped Thirteen on the way out. Why?"

"We're setting up a time to meet for a little nsa after work," House snipes. "Keep it on the down-low."

"You're covering up something for her and I don't care why," Adam says.

House turns around and looks Adam in the eye.

"I just want to make sure she's ok," Adam says. "She's been overly bitter about this case, and you keep talking to her alone, I'd be an idiot to not notice something is going on."

House's gaze softens a little. He continues staring at Adam for a moment. "Very perceptive, why do you care?" His expression turns to one of puzzlement.

"I've seen people in trouble before and done nothing about it," Adam responds solemnly. "I know she has Huntington's, and I know the others are worried, they just won't say anything about it."

"Let me guess, girlfriend," House says waiting for a response.

"Yeah," Adam looks down and bounces his cane. "We lived together for a few years. She was clinically depressed, found her when I came home from class one day."

House nodded slowly. "She's fine. I'm keeping a close eye on her."

Adam nodded, turned and limped out of the office.


	8. Changes Part 4

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>A few hours later House is in the clinic doing his hours.<p>

"Janet…Hemorrhoid," House calls out loudly in the clinic.

A woman gets up nervously and whispers. "That's not my name. It's why I'm here."

"Oh, I see," House says. "It goes across. We better make this fast, 'cause I'm about to lose my medical license for malpractice. It's nothing unusual. The head of the hospital's about to lose hers too." Janet leaves hastily. House takes another file. Wilson joins him.

"I heard Cuddy quadrupled your clinic hours," Wilson says.

"Yeah, but you know what? I'm flying through patients," House responds.

"Arlene wants another meeting," Wilson states.

"I know," House replies. "Told my seconds to tell her seconds that she gets no second chance. Well, technically, it's a third chance, but I don't have thirds."

"Cuddy told her the same thing, more or less," Wilson says.

"So you got us on the same page after all," House says.

I've been thinking about your irrationality, and I've come up with a rational explanation for it," Wilson says flatly.

"That's quite a challenge," House compliments.

"You don't want to let go of Cuddy," Wilson starts. "So you're clinging to the negative interaction, because some small part of you thinks the bad stuff beats nothing at all."

"You're almost making this work," House says supportively. "All you got to do now is change reality. Perhaps if I was the one suing me."

"You didn't start it," Wilson replies. "But you had the chance to end it, and you didn't. You love her, House, and it's human to hang on, but you're blowing up not just your job but any chance of any kind of relationship with her again."

Meanwhile in Cyrus' room. Jennifer is bringing Phil in.

"Hi," Cyrus says. He hands Phil an envelope.

"What's that," Phil asks taking the envelope.

"It's a check," Cyrus responds. "For $10 million dollars."

"Uh, I don't know what to say, I mean…you've already been so generous," Phil stammers.

"By hiring you," Cyrus asks.

"Yeah," Phil responds.

"For a whopping six figures," Cyrus questions. "My own blood? Best friend I ever had?" He glances at Jennifer. "Year in, year out." Phil takes the check and squeezes Cyrus' hand. Jennifer cries a little, seems not at ease. She lifts her glasses and rubs her eyes. Thirteen hands her a tissue.

"You're wearing contacts under your glasses," Thirteen asks.

Jennifer chuckles, "I must have forgotten to take them off when I…"

"They're tinted," Thirteen says suspiciously. "Do you change your eye color?"

"Sometimes I like to mix it up," Jennifer says defensively. "I don't understand. What are you…"

"Wait, you…you don't have brown eyes," Cyrus asks. "Where'd the name Baby Bear come from?"

Jennifer looks startled, then chuckles again. "It's so long ago, I don't…"

"It's a birthmark on your left breast in the shape of a bear," Cyrus says angrily. "You forgot that? He turns and looks at Phil. "It's the one thing I never told you. That's why she doesn't know."

"It's not like that. I swear," Phil says.

Cyrus looks like he is going to cry. "Get out," he yells. "Get out!"

"Come on, man," Phil starts.

"Get out," Cyrus shouts again.

"I'm sorry," Phil says.

"Get out! Both of you!" Cyrus says not looking at either of them. Jennifer and Phil hastily leave the room. Cyrus talks to Thirteen, breathing heavily. "You were right. I'm just another lottery fool. My life sucks. It'll always suck." Alarms start beeping.

"He's crashing," Taub states. "Everything's shutting down." Adam gets an oxygen mask and they start reanimation.

After they get him stabilized, Taub, Thirteen and Adam meet the rest of the team in the PPTH lobby where House is pacing.

"Patient had a cardiac arrest, and his lungs and liver failed before we even started the chemo," Thirteen says.

"Brain symptoms that aren't brain symptoms and tumors that come and go," House questions aloud.

"It's not amyloidosis," Foreman says.

"You're forgetting alopecia. Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were just listing the things it's not alphabetically, House mocks.

"His long lost love is a fraud," Taub states. "Thirteen figured that out."

"Good for her," House says still pacing.

"Decades of menial work, three cancers couldn't make him die miserable," Taub says. "She just did."

"He's giving up," Adam says. "He feels like he has nothing to live for. Which is making him miserable."

"The truth made him miserable," Thirteen corrects.

"It's like there's two of me," House says. A fire alarm starts. Everyone leaves the hospital. Outside everybody is gathered, patients, nurses, doctors, firefighters…House is sitting and looks at Cuddy talking to an assistant.

"Keep the clinic shut down," Cuddy says. "But wherever it is, it's isolated to the administrative floor. I'm not gonna evacuate the whole…" She suddenly stops talking, she sees a smiling Arlene coming to her.

"Only way to get the two of you in the same place at the same time," she says.

Cuddy sighs and rolls her eyes. Turning around to her assistant. "Reopen everything. Readmit everyone. Now." House joins her, thinking hard.

"I want you both to know I'm filing the suit today, delivering the paperwork to your counsel's office," Arlene says.

"You have to be destructive," Cuddy says making no attempt to hide her annoyance. "You have to tear things apart. God forbid you should say what's really on that twisted mind of yours?"

"And you're the great peacemaker," Arlene questions. "Single mom, can't keep a man long enough to cook a meal."

"You'd be dead if it weren't for our mistreatment," Cuddy throws back. "And somehow you'd still find something to whine about."

"We'll let the court decide who's whining since you're so sure…" Arlene starts.

"We're not getting back together," House interrupts.

"What are you talking about," Cuddy asks turning to House.

"It's the only explanation," House explains. "Why she keeps making threats without ever filing her stupid, yet completely valid lawsuit. Why she ripped up her will, why she kicked half the hospital out on the street. She wants us united against her."

"This is her drawing blood over the latest of a long line of imaginary slights," Cuddy says disregarding House's assessment. She turns to look at her mother as she continues to attack her. "She doesn't care if anyone else is happy for a single…" Her voice trails off when she realizes House is right.

Arlene shakes her head. "Look at you idiots. Who else is gonna put up with either of you?"

"I asked you to move in. That meant we weren't gonna reconcile," Cuddy says slowly realizing what has been happening. "I'm sorry, Mom." She comes and hugs her. "Some things take more than a common enemy."

"Then you're an idiot with impossible standards," Arlene responds. Cuddy turns to House, who is no longer there.

House suddenly enters the patient's room, looking somewhat smug.

"Common enemy," House states. "One way to trigger brain symptoms when there's nothing wrong with your brain, have something else turn your brain into a common enemy. You have a teratoma, a usually harmless congenital growth which can be filled with almost any kind of tissue. And, unusually, not at all harmless. If I'm right, yours is filled with primitive cells, some of which developed into brain cells. These foreign cells leaked into your bloodstream. Now, the body is a little xenophobic. It creates antibodies. The problem is, there's not much difference between brain cells in your abdomen and brain cells in your brain. To make matters worse, primitive cells can become almost anything. Grow like weeds. Which means they can turn into tumors, destroy whole organ systems.

"But the cancer," Taub questions.

"Was cancer," House answers. "Just growing so fast it collapsed under its own weight."

"Am I gonna live," Cyrus asks.

"Cut out the teratoma, what's left of your cancer, you should be fine," House says. "Think of it as your second luckiest day."

"It's hard to feel lucky," Cyrus says. "The woman I love was a fraud."

"No, actually a fraud was a fraud," House says. "You fell for her just the same. You may stay miserable, but your long lost love is not gonna be the reason why."

(Cut to a musical montage in slow motion) :

The blonde nurse sleeping next to Chase, who looks worried;

_Lady, don't throw in the towel ‚__  
><em>_let me dry you off I'll shower,__  
><em>_you used to be my little sickling ‚__  
><em>_but now it's me that needs some fixing ‚_

Foreman in the Diagnostics office, checking his blood pressure;

_I think about you every second ‚__  
><em>_along with the pain that's through you, reckon ‚__  
><em>_you used to be my little sickling,__  
><em>_but now it's me that needs some fixin',_

Cyrus is lying in his bed; another blonde woman enters his room; he looks incredulous, then there is a hint of a smile;

_what is it about the time and,__  
><em>_what is it about the place and,__  
><em>_what is it about your face,__  
><em>_that keeps me on the line._

Cyrus and the real Jennifer are talking ; Thirteen is watching them from the lobby. House joins her and offers her some chips, which she takes.

"It's the real Jennifer," Thirteen says frankly. "Or at least the only one to show up who actually has the birthmark. He's renting her an apartment."

"It'll end horribly," House states.

"Not for him," Thirteen replies. "She may take all his money, and he may be a naive idiot, but… he'll always be hopeful, so he'll always be happy."

House looks at her unconvinced. "You lost your mother. You euthanized your brother. You got the life expectancy of a pretty good sitcom. If you can convince yourself that you'd be miserable no matter what even without all that stuff, then maybe you don't have to hate the universe for dumping a giant turd on you. Fatalism is your survival mechanism."

"And you, Thirteen asks turning the tables. "Dumped by everyone you've ever loved. Rehab was a bust. Your leg feels like somebody took a giant bite out of it. We are who we are. Lotteries are stupid."

She leaves. House stands there watching and thinking, eating a chip.

Cuddy is sitting at her desk and looks up when someone knocks three times on the door. "Come in."

The door opens and Adam limps in. He sits down in one of the chairs across from Cuddy. "How do I do it," he asks.

"Do what," Cuddy questions, confused.

"Keep from getting too involved with the team," Adam responds. "I learned a lot about each of them over the last week and they're all screwed up. Just like me. How do I keep from getting hurt?"

Cuddy sets down her pen and leans back in her chair. "Are you talking about anyone specifically?"

"Not really," Adam says bouncing his cane. "Thirteen and House kind of bothered me today. I think House sees himself in her. He's trying to make her happy because he knows he can't be."

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming," Cuddy asks.

"No, you forget why you hired me," Adam said glaring at Cuddy. "House even remarked on my insightfulness today."

Cuddy sat silent, thinking about what Adam had said.

"Then there's Chase," Adam continued looking down at his bouncing cane. "The guy's completely miserable. He's still not recovered from his divorce. He really loved her, and I know what that's like. Taub is quiet, and Foreman is a control freak." Adam stopped bouncing his cane and looked up at Cuddy who was just looking at him. "Thanks, that makes me feel so much better."

"Don't fight it," she said still sitting back in her chair.

"That's not exactly a good way to protect myself," Adam said, his hand rubbing his goatee.

"I hired you for two reasons," Cuddy started. "The first is for your gifted observational skills, and the second is because of your compassion. As many things that have gone wrong in your life have also gone right because of your compassion."

Adam sat silently; he held his head in his hand deep in thought.

"Don't fight against the things you're good at," Cuddy continued. "Let your heart guide you, isn't that what you learned?"

"Yeah," Adam said quietly and nodding his head.

"Then do it," Cuddy said sitting up in her chair. "Don't let the little things bog you down. Push past them and get to the other side. Everything else will fall into place."

Adam continued to nod and stood up, apparently satisfied with Cuddy's answers. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Cuddy replied. She watched Adam leave and sat thinking for a while before returning to her paperwork.


	9. The Fix Part 1

**A/N: Whew! I never thought I would finish this next part. Thanks to my beta Vixen for the confidence and pushing me to keep working on it. Please continue to review and as always any criticism is greatly appreciated. **

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>A picture of a woman in a bikini lying on a lounge chair is being held by Tony. He and Glenn are standing in front of a concrete wall. Tony has a roll of duct tape in his other hand.<p>

"I have been fantasizing about this for months," Tony says.

"Forget it," Glenn responds. "We're not here to fool around."

"I'm not fooling around. I need this," Tony replied.

"You're an idiot," Glenn says back. "You know that?"

They are standing in front of a round, concrete structure in the middle of nowhere. It's about eight or nine feet high. Tony tosses the picture on top and turns to Glenn.

"Just shut up and give me a boost," says Tony.

Glenn sighs and cups his hands. With Glenn's help, Tony climbs up to the top of the blockhouse. He looks around. It's very overcast, there's a storm coming.

"Hurry your ass up," Glenn shouts.

There's the sound of a piece of duct tape being torn off the role. Glenn waits impatiently on the ground. Tony rubs a trapezoidal thing on top of the building. He jumps down. He and Glenn run to their car. The engine starts. The car backs up and they haul ass out of there.

"Hey, sometimes a guy's got to do what a guy's got to do," Tony says. He picks up a two-way radio and speaks into it. "Jaguar one to control. Uh, sorry for the delay, Glenn had to take a leak. It was unavoidable." He grins. "Target area is clear. Repeat, target area confirmed clear."

The trapezoidal thing, whatever it is, now has the picture of the woman in the bikini taped to it.

Meanwhile in a computer center, the same woman, Dr. Lee, is wearing a business suit. Cesar approaches her.

"Dr. Lee, target area is cleared," Cesar says. "Launch vehicle's in range. All systems go."

"Thank you Cesar," Lee says. "Whenever you're ready." She turns to a couple of military men flanking her. "The CT-10's light enough to launch from a UAV, but can penetrate eight feet of 6,000-psi concrete before detonation."

Cesar is kibitzing on one of the manned computer terminals. "Bomb's away," he says.

"Precision guidance system's not affected by darkness or weather and can hit a two-foot-wide target from sixty-nine thousand feet," Lee says.

"What about sound," asks the General.

The target appears on a computer screen. It's the blockhouse Tony and Glenn were at.

"None inbound at all," Lee said. "We've developed a new fan and a baffling design that…"

"Ordnance on target in three, two, one," Cesar interrupts.

The computer guy clicks a button and the blockhouse becomes a huge cloud of black smoke. Lee smiles slightly.

Meanwhile Tony and Glenn are parked in the car in a field.

"I feel better already," Tony says.

"You need to see a shrink. Seriously," Glenn says.

Tony grins.

Back in the computer center, the General addresses Cesar.

"Well done," the General says.

Cesar looks at him then runs past him.

"Wendy," Cesar yells. Dr. Lee is on the floor, convulsing. "Call 911!"

Meanwhile House is sitting on his kitchen table in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He's doing leg lifts against the resistance of some red rubber tubing. The tubing is attached to a table leg while the other is attached to a black Velcro strap around House's right ankle. The scar on his leg is still massive but after all these years it is no longer red. House does one more lift, grunting from the effort despite the fact that he doesn't get his leg very far up. He slides off the table, landing on his left foot. He holds onto his right thigh and breathes through the pain.

Later that morning in the diagnostics office.

"Karma's a bitch," Thirteen says.

"You think her seizures are the result of bad karma," Foreman asks.

"I think if you spend your days designing more effective ways to blow people up, stuff's bound to come back to you," Thirteen responds.

Everyone turns to look at House who is downing an entire bottle of water in one breath. He finishes and belches.

"Thirsty," House states. "Side effect of a new antihistamine I'm on."

"You don't seem congested," Chase says slightly puzzled.

"Hmm, intriguing," House says.

"You have any thoughts about our patient," Taub asks.

"Got some questions about whether Thirteen really believes in karma or just wants to," House responds. "As for the patient, it's not gonna be easy to break into her office. Might want to start with her home."

"We could ask to look through her office and we could do an MRI first," Adam says.

"Sure, go ahead," House says.

"If you're not interested in the case, why'd you take it," Taub asks irritated.

"I am definitely interested," House responds. "Could be a tumor. Could be a CNS bleed. What do you do when you got two interesting puzzles?"

"Two," Taub asks.

The door opens and Wilson slides in, making a 'gimme' gesture with both hands. "Fifty bucks," he shouts loudly and triumphantly. "Pay up." Wilson does a full end-zone dance with humming, arm gestures and some nice hip action as he turns full circle, ending facing House again. "Let's go. Let's go," he says wiggling his fingers for the money.

"Bet's off," House says. "Fight was fixed." Wilson opens his arms wide in 'what are you talking about' fashion. "That punch barely touched him," House says.

"You bet on Foley to beat Zachary," Foreman asks House.

"Speed beats power… unless speed has been paid to speedily take a dive," House responds irritated.

"He touched him enough to put him on the canvas and the official counted him out, which means you officially owe me… fifty bucks," Wilson says. As soon as he says the amount, the dance starts again.

"We bet on a sporting event," House says. "That was not sporting. Less than thirty seconds. That was barely even event-y."

"Okay, here's what I saw," Wilson starts. "You lost and I won."

"Yeah, well, you can take that to your grave," House says growing more serious. "You're not taking my fifty bucks."

"Prove it," Wilson says. "Prove it or pay up. You got one day. And don't make me send my boys out looking for you." He turns toward the door, stops, and puts up a warning finger, which he points at various members of the team. "What? All right." He leaves.

"So, two puzzles," House says. "Tie goes to the one that costs me money." He grabs his cane and heads for the door. "Keep each other posted."

Chase, Foreman, Taub, Adam and Thirteen grin widely. "Here you go. For you and you and you," Adam said standing up and handing out tickets to each of the team members.

"Tickets," Thirteen said questioning.

"Avenged Sevenfold, who are these guys mate," Chase asked after reading the ticket.

"Rock band," Adam responded sitting in his chair. "You'll have a good time trust me, these guys know how to put on a really good show."

"These are backstage passes," Taub says. "How did you get these."

"Gift from a friend," Adam responded. "So are you all going?"

"Don't see why not," Chase said.

"Sounds like it'll be fun," Taub says smiling.

"I'm in," Foreman says shrugging.

"Sorry can't," Thirteen says handing Adam back her ticket.

"That's enough of that," Adam says not accepting the ticket back. "You need to get out and have some fun. I thought that was what your disease had taught you. And come on, you never come out with us. Once won't kill you will it?"

"I'm sorry I just…" Thirteen started.

"You're washing your hair," Foreman asked.

"No," Thirteen responded.

"Not interested," Chase asks.

"Got a date," Taub questions.

"No, and no," Thirteen says looking at Chase and Taub respectively.

"Then no more excuses," Adam says. "You're going. Chase is driving."

They all smiled a little excited to be going to a concert.

Later Thirteen, Chase and Adam wheel Lee in for her MRI.

"I've always been healthy," Lee says. "I never even get colds."

"I guess your luck finally ran out," Thirteen sneers.

Lee turns to Chase. "I take it she doesn't like people who makes bombs."

"I'm sorry," Thirteen apologizes. "I didn't mean to…"

Lee is getting onto the MRI. "It's all right. Half of my family feels the same way. Of course they all work on Wall Street, so… Ever since the first 4th of July I can remember, I've always loved explosions. When I got to college and I had to pick a major, figured I might as well pick something I'm passionate about."

"Destroying things," Thirteen asks slightly confused. "You weren't passionate about anything else?"

Chase clicks the headpiece into place, leaving her to talk through the window framing her face.

"Bombs are tools, just like anything else," Lee says. "You can use it to make things better or you can use it to make things worse. I also like romantic poetry and picnics. Is there anything else you want to know before we do this MRI?"

"Nope," Adam says ending the conversation.

"Try to stay as still as possible. This shouldn't take long," Chase says.

Cut to a diner. House sits down in a booth, across from a black man wearing a hoodie. He has his head down.

"Hey, how's it going," House asks.

"You mind," Foley asks. "I mean, there are plenty of other seats."

"I'm not here to judge," House says. "You did what was best for you and I got no problem with that."

"I'm not gonna ask you nice again," Foley says. "Just go away."

"Or what," House asks. "You're suddenly gonna fall down? Listen. I got a problem. A guy who knows absolutely nothing about boxing, because of you now thinks he does. You can imagine the potential ramifications. I need you to get on the phone with him and tell him you took a dive."

"I didn't take a dive," Foley says angry.

"Take a picture of you to prove that it was really you and we're done," House says holding up his cell phone. "Just enough to convince him. Not enough to get you in any trouble."

Foley slowly enunciates clearly. "I didn't take a dive."

"Yeah, that story's getting boring," House says. "Look, I'm not from the commission. I'm not some bookie. I'm a doctor. This is my I.D."

"Look, if you were a bookie, you'd know no one pays a guy to throw a fight he has no chance to win," Foley says. "I was a 12-to-1 underdog. Lost my last five fights."

"But you were the better fighter," House says. "That last punch barely touched you."

"You ever been barely touched by a guy who weighs 230 pounds," Foley asks. "Look at me. Look where I am, what I'm wearing. Now, do I look like a guy who just got a payday? I didn't throw the fight. I just suck."

House stares at his face, studying it.

Later the door flies open to Wilson's office and House enters. "Ha!" House says slamming the door. "Proof." He shoves his open cell phone at Wilson. There's an extreme close-up of Foley's face on it. Wilson takes the phone, looks at the picture and scoffs.

"Just because he wasn't hit in the face…" Wilson starts.

"Look at his pupils," House interrupts. "He has anisocoria, which, given his age, the adrenaline surge of the fight, the fact that he's still alive means he was tachycardic. He has Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome."

"The bet was on who would win, not who would live the longest," Wilson says.

"If he's physically unable to continue because of a preexisting illness, then it's technically a no contest, which means all bets are off," House says.

"You know that just because I was right about this one fighter doesn't make you any less of a man," Wilson asks.

"Actually, it would, if you were right," House says.

"Then as I said earlier, prove it," Wilson states. "And one possibly Photoshopped cell phone pic does not a diagnosis make."

House leaves Wilson's office and slams the door shut behind him. House walks out into the hall and heads for the elevator where Cesar catches up with him.

"Oh, excuse me, Dr. House," Cesar calls out.

"Désolé, je ne parle pas anglais," House responds. "Sorry, I don't speak English."

"I'm a co-worker of Wendy Lee's," Cesar says. "I'm also her boyfriend."

"Great," House replies. "I'm a guy who doesn't care."

"She's your patient," Cesar says confused.

"Oh, you thought I didn't know who Wendy Lee was," House says. "Yeah, makes sense. I'm not good at names. Did Dr. Fortune tell you that?"

"Her last boyfriend was a real nut," Cesar says. "He's basically stalking her."

"See, this is what I don't care about," House says. The elevator arrives. House gets in and pushes a button. "I don't care who cares about her. Used to care about her. Either one you falls down dead, you can drop me a note."

Cesar reaches out and stops the elevator door from closing. "I think I know what's wrong with her."

"You screwed up in the lab and accidentally spilled some bomb on her," House asked.

"No, he really is crazy," Cesar said.

A short while later the team is walking down the hall with House.

"Poisoned," Thirteen says not believing the suggestion.

"Apparently our mad scientist is also a slutty scientist whose milkshakes got all the nerds in the yard fighting over her," House says.

"She's a slut because she's dated two different guys at work," Thirteen asks.

"Oh, I'm sorry," House says. "I thought we were still judging her."

"She's not a slut and it's not poison," Foreman says. "When we tested her blood and cerebral spinal fluid for toxic exposure, it was negative for every poison we could think of."

"Well, that just leaves every poison we didn't think of," Adam says. "She works in a bomb factory."

"So do a lot of other not-sick people," Foreman says.

"The guy had any actual evidence she was poisoned, he would have gone to the police, not to us," Thirteen says suspiciously.

"And if we had any evidence of what was wrong with her, you'd be showing us MRI results," Taub says. "I assume they were negative."

"Couldn't hurt to start activated charcoal, see what happens," Chase says.

"You know what else wouldn't hurt," House asks. "This case is getting interesting. Let's add a little danger."

That night, Chase, Adam, and Thirteen break into Tony's house through the unlocked patio sliding door. Chase enters first shining a flashlight around followed by Thirteen with her own flashlight and finally Adam. "Hmmm," Thirteen says her light coming to rest on a photograph of Tony crouched over a deer he has killed. There's a stuffed eagle on the wall next to the photo. She turns away and gasps. There's a huge bear mounted on the wall, posed as if it's about to attack.

"Well he sure knows how to kill things," Adam says looking around at the trophies.

"Just because he has guns doesn't make him a murderer," Chase says.

"Tell that to the bear," Thirteen responds.

"Look in the desk," Chase says. "See if he's got a diary or a journal."

"Something tells me he's not exactly a diary kind of guy," Thirteen says. "Maybe a manifesto."

"Just look," Chase says. "I'm gonna check out the rest of the place, see if he's got a computer."

Thirteen's cell phone rings. She looks at the caller ID. "It's Foreman." She answers the phone. "Yep?"

"You break in yet," Foreman asks from the other end.

"Yeah, we're in the abattoir now," Thirteen responds. "Why?"

"You can leave," Foreman says. "I think Taub and I found what we're looking for."


	10. The Fix Part 2

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Bottles clang as Taub hauls a carton with more than a dozen bottles in it. He drops it on the desk next to two more cartons similarly filled.<p>

"Looks like she actually was being poisoned, but she's been doing it to herself," Foreman says hanging up the phone.

After getting back to the hospital, Taub and Foreman go to Lee's room to question her about the bottles.

"I'm not an alcoholic," Lee says.

"I know. I know the whole label thing is so limiting," Taub says. "You're a person who happens to suffer from alcoholism."

"You broke into my house and now you're being a smartass," Lee questions.

"During your history, you said you didn't drink at all," Foreman says.

"I don't," Lee rebuts.

"You just collect bottles," Taub asks.

"Yes," Lee defends. "I collect them for my friend. She uses them in her art projects."

"And you're ashamed of these art projects," Taub asks. "The bottles were hidden."

"That's because my housekeeper keeps throwing them out," Lee says. "I-I've told her a dozen times not to but either she doesn't understand or she doesn't care."

As Taub and Foreman leave Lee's room they meet up with Chase, Thirteen, and Adam in the hall. They talk as they head toward Diagnostics.

"Why would she lie," Chase asks.

"That's the easy question," Thirteen says. "She needs a government security clearance for her job."

"And what's the hard question," Taub asks.

"If she's an alcoholic, why doesn't she have at least some partially full bottles in the house," Thirteen says. "I mean, why keep the empties? Why not just throw them away?"

"So she's probably telling the truth," Adam says.

"So what do we do," Taub asks.

"We start her on Valium for alcohol withdrawal," Foreman says. They all stop walking to look at him. "It's the best we've got right now." Foreman, Chase, and Adam head off in one direction, Taub and Thirteen in another.

Meanwhile in the treatment area, a sliding door opens. House follows Foley, talking loudly.

"One normal EKG does not a healthy person make," House says.

"Look, I told you I just suck," Foley said.

"Oh, you make me so sad," House said. "Don't talk like that."

Foley turns to face House. "Why do you care so much?"

"Kill me for loving my patients," House said. "It's just what I do."

Foley snorts and takes off down the hall. House doesn't follow.

"Hey, stop. Stop!" House shouts. Foley turns around "Look, my–my leg hurts. Okay? Just talk to me for a moment." House holds his leg as he sits on one of the benches in the hall. Foley stands in front of him. "You don't have to be a loser."

Foley scoffs. "Thanks."

"Whatever's wrong with you, it's real," House says. "Sick is good. Sick means it can get better. You could get better. And I don't mean healthier. I mean… maybe you don't have to suck."

"Figure out what's wrong with yourself, leave me alone," Foley says walking away.

Meanwhile in Lee's room. She screams with pain. Nurse Hoffner is treating her. Foreman and Chase enter. Cesar is by the windows.

"Abdominal pain," Hoffner says.

"She said it felt like she was being stabbed," Cesar reports.

"Ah! Ah!" Lee screams.

"Give her morphine, 5 milligrams IV," Foreman says.

After getting her stable, the team meets in the Diagnostics Office. Everyone but House is there.

"Is it a symptom of the underlying condition or a symptom of our treatment," Adam asked.

"We'll know soon," Chase said. "I stopped her treatment."

"We should restart it," Foreman said. "Acute pancreatitis from alcoholism would cause this kind of pain."

"It's stress related," Thirteen interjected.

"She's in a lot of pain," Foreman says.

"She's under a lot of stress," Thirteen says back. "She's got two guys fighting over her and she got done with the final test of a new bomb. Her guilt is killing her."

"As far as you know, she likes being the center of attention and loves her job," Foreman says.

"As far as you know, she doesn't drink," Thirteen fires back.

"What if it's a kidney infection," Adam asks. "Acute pyelonephritis could kill her if we don't start her on IV antibiotics."

"Would kill her if it was pyelonephritis, but since her urine and CSF don't show signs of infection…" Foreman starts.

"I paged House," Taub says. Foreman rolls his eyes at him. "What? We got nothing. Less than nothing since he's actually ignoring my pages, which means we have a sick patient and apparently a sick boss."

Foreman thinks about it, gets up and leaves.

Cut to Wilson's office. Foreman walks in without knocking. He takes out his wallet and puts some money on the table.

"Tell him you admit he's right," Foreman says. "Let's get him back to work."

"If he's ignoring you, it's because he trusts you," Wilson says.

"No, it's not," Foreman says.

"No, it's not," Wilson said. "But he does."

"Thanks," Foreman says. "I feel warm inside. Right now I'm debating which bad idea I should pretend is a good idea and force everybody to implement."

"I think this is good for him," Wilson says.

"Obsessing over a bet is good," Foreman asks confused. "And doing his actual job, treating actual patients, that's bad?"

"House only doing what House wants is the only way he can function," Wilson explains. "Since the breakup, he's been seeking out crazier and crazier things to do because they're crazy. This is…well, it's not crazy."

"No, just irresponsible and possibly dangerous," Foreman replies.

"By House standards, it's dull," Wilson says. "This he's doing just because he's interested. I think House getting back to doing…stupid House stuff for stupid House reasons is the best thing that could happen to him."

"I'll go explain that to the patient," Foreman says irritated.

Wilson hands Foreman his money. He takes it and leaves.

Cut to House's apartment. He's sitting on the kitchen table, wearing long pants, doing leg lifts against the tubing again. He pants with the effort. He rubs his thigh and undoes the strap. He gets down and goes over to a counter. House unzips a toiletry kit and takes out a packet of white powder, a needle and a tourniquet. He ties the tourniquet on his left bicep using his teeth and his other hand. He puts some powder in a soupspoon and adds some water. It's directly over a flame and it bubbles. House taps a full syringe to get out the air bubbles then injects himself in the crook of his arm. There are about a dozen healing scabs and hematomas there already. He waits a moment, then undoes the tourniquet.

Meanwhile in Lee's room she is convulsing while Taub and a nurse tend to her. Cesar looks on from near the foot of the bed.

The team meets again in the ddx office.

"It's definitely not pancreatitis," Taub says. "Restarting the treatment obviously didn't help anything. I assume you tested for infections." Adam gives him a 'duh' look. "And I assume that look means 'yes, and I was wrong.' He says to Thirteen. "You call for a psych consult? Wow. That's the same look I just got from Adam. So an hour ago, we had three theories we couldn't agree on. Now we've got no theories, but we're in agreement."

"CT and ultrasound showed inflammation in the renal capsule," Chase says. "Could be an obstructing calculus or a perinephric abscess."

"Blood cultures came back negative. It's probably just a benign cyst," Foreman says shooting down the idea.

"Yes, let's just dismiss an idea because it's probably nothing," Chase says glaring at Foreman.

"Could be gas in the perinephric space, in which case, we should be prepping her for emergency surgery," Thirteen says.

The door opens and House comes in.

"What looks like Wolff-Parkinson-White but isn't," House asks setting his backpack in his chair.

"Her EKG was normal," Foreman says slightly puzzled.

"So was his," House retorts. "That's why I said 'looks like.' As in similar to, but not the same."

"You want us to help you get out of paying your bet while your actual patient lies in agony," Taub asks.

"Who's the real bad guy here," House asks. "The guy who doesn't care enough to help or the five guys who are not competent enough to help? He works out too much, gets pounded too much, and not in the romantic way. His pupils…"

"I got it," Taub says.

"Your patient," House asks. "No. Plenty of time to save her life after we save my money."

Taub ignores House and returns to the differential. "Underlying neurological condition exacerbated by an acute UTI brought on by her sexual escapades."

"Slut? Escapades? How do we treat? A scarlet A," Thirteen asks.

"Sorry." Taub says. "Acute UTI brought on by her healthy enjoyment of her womanhood. We start her on IV ampicillin and an aminoglycoside."

They all get up and leave. At the door, Foreman turns back to House who is still thinking about Foley.

"You ignore us all the time," Foreman starts. "You go on crazy joyrides all the time. But you answer pages, you sleep." House doesn't even look at him. "I know I'm gonna regret doing this, but I'll ask anyway. Is there anything I can do to help?"

House lifts his head getting an idea. "Although…" He gets up, walks past Foreman and leaves.

Later in a gym, there are guys sparring in the ring and in front of it. Guys are warming up, punching a heavy bag, etc. Foley is mopping the floor.

"Great news," House shouts out from the other end of the gym as he walks towards Foley. "You have an underlying neurological condition, which together with your heart…"

"You said my heart was fine," Foley states irritated.

"Yeah, I also said I would get you your career back," House says. "But it doesn't seem to matter since you've so clearly been handed the golden spit bucket." Foley glares slightly at him. "Sympathetic overdrive. It's a medical term. So is 'great news.' Of course, if you prefer wallowing…" Foley turns away from him. House follows. "All you need is a chin. And a heart, apparently. Then you can go back to being the guy who won 20 of his first 20 instead of the guy who lost 5 of his last 5. Although, technically, I count the last one as a no contest."

"And you save fifty bucks," Foley says.

"I'm a doctor," House says. "I don't tell a fat guy to lay off bacon for less than three hundred." Foley almost laughs. "This is about dignity for both of us. Give me your arm." He hangs his cane on a piece of equipment and pulls something from his pocket. "Give me your arm." He sticks a syringe into Foley's arm through his sweatshirt.

"What the hell," Foley shouts surprised.

"Don't worry. It's just epinephrine," House says.

"Ep…is it dangerous," Foley asks.

"In the wrong hands, very," House replies. "So… yeah, sort of. This will only take a few seconds." He checks the pulse in Foley's neck. "And… you are tachycardic."

Foley is breathing heavily. "Yo, are you psycho?"

"We combine the increased heart rate with chest trauma by applying a little sweet science to the science," House says. "Don't worry. I'll…I'll explain more when you wake up. Now, the punch that supposedly knocked you out looked like it was thrown by an old cripple. Kind of like this." He puts his hands in classic boxing position and taps Foley in the chest with a left jab.

"Look, stop it," Foley says.

House counts down. "Three, two, one." He waits but nothing happens. "Huh. Seem to be older and more crippled than I thought." He punches Foley again.

"Look…no. You're embarrassing me," Foley says.

"Doesn't make sense," House says. "Maybe if I…" He throws another punch but Foley grabs his arm and tosses him to the floor.

"Look, get the hell out of my life, you lunatic," Foley says. Foley leaves. House sits up and looks puzzled.

Meanwhile in Lee's room. Alarms are beeping. Nurse Gibbs is there as Taub and Chase rush in. The heart monitor is beeping frantically.

"She's in V-tach," Nurse Gibbs says. "BP's dropping."

"Whatever you're doing isn't working again," Cesar says. "There's got to be some way to stop the seizures."

"It's not a seizure," Taub says. "She's having a heart attack. No pulse."

"That's impossible," Cesar shouts. "She runs marathons!"

Chase grabs the defibrillator while Taub uses an Ambu Bag on Lee.

"Charging to two hundred," Chase shouts. "Clear."

Taub pulls back. After Chase shocks Lee, Taub checks her neck. "Still no pulse."

"Charging to three hundred," Chase says.

"Why is this happening," Cesar asks.

"Clear," Chase shouts.

Meanwhile at a nurses' station. Foreman is talking to Cuddy.

"My theory is that he's only avoiding us because he really wants to avoid you," Foreman says.

"Ma nishtana," Cuddy says. Foreman looks puzzled. "You made it through med school without ever attending a Seder? It means 'why is this night different from all other nights?'"

"I'm not sure it is," Foreman replies. "But usually when push comes to shove, he shows up."

"If the patient's still alive, then push hasn't met shove yet," Cuddy says.

"Patient is hanging by a thread and we don't have a clue why," Foreman says.

"Then we have to assume he does and she isn't," Cuddy says. Cuddy walks to the elevator. Foreman follows.

"We could or we could assume that something is seriously wrong with House and try to do something about that," Foreman says. "This way, even if we're wrong, nobody dies."

"House is fine," Cuddy says. "House is always fine." The elevator arrives. She starts to get in. Foreman grabs her arm. She looks shocked.

"I'm expanding my theory," Foreman says. "He's avoiding you and you're avoiding him and this patient is gonna die."

"Not if you do your job," Cuddy says. She walks off.

Later in House's kitchen, he gives himself another injection and removes the tourniquet.

"You're an idiot," Thirteen says standing in the doorway to the living room.

"How did you get in here," House asks.

"My boss has me break into places all the time," Thirteen says nonchalantly.

"Pain has been getting worse," House says. "I figured if I upped the Vicodin any more, I'd end up back in a rubber room, so this seemed like the smarter choice."

"You're an idiot," Thirteen says again.

"You drove all the way over here to break in and call me an idiot," House asks.

"No, I drove all the way over here to tell you we're implanting an automated cardio-defibrillator, which won't actually do anything to help the patient except maybe give us enough time to come up with a guess as to what's actually wrong with her," Thirteen says.

"Oh, that makes more sense," House says.

"And I broke in here because Cuddy and Wilson both separately asked me to," Thirteen states.

"Even more logical," House replies.

"And that's not heroin, which means you knew I was coming over here, and Cuddy and Wilson are right," Thirteen says thinking. "You're just playing a game. Throwing out a bone and watching us fight over it." She starts to leave in a huff.

"There is another theory," House says stopping Thirteen. He picks up a report from a table and hands it to her. "Compound CS-804. It's an experimental drug that's supposed to regrow muscle."

Thirteen flips through it. "This experiment was done on rats."

"It's groundbreaking," House says. "Huge success."

"In rats," Thirteen says again.

"Well, they got four legs," House says. "Think how fast it should work on one."

"You're an idiot," Thirteen says again. She gives him back the report and leaves.

Meanwhile in the O.R., they're implanting the automated defibrillator. Chase looks puzzled and walks from Lee's head further down the table.

"We've got a problem," Chase says.

"AICD not working," Taub asks.

"If it's the defibrillator, I'd be looking elsewhere," Chase says lifting the blankets. "Smells like bleeding."

"Rectal," Taub asks.

"And vaginal," Chase says.

The procedure is cancelled and the team regroups in the Diagnostics Office.

"Is it possible something got perforated during surgery," Foreman asks.

"Is that an accusation," Taub questions.

"Sounded like a question," Foreman says flatly. "Just a straightforward inquiry that only someone with serious insecurities would take issue with."

"Okay, so in answering, I have to decide between the only two possibilities," Taub says. "No and yes, we might have screwed something up, but are intentionally hiding it because we're incompetent and we're asses. Answer is no. Glad we didn't shortchange that avenue. It's a blood disorder. A coagulopathy."

"That's not a diagnosis," Foreman says. "That's like saying she has a runny nose."

"True," Taub says. "But not saying she has a runny nose risks getting snot all over us. We can treat it."

"Cause could still be a toxin," Foreman says. "She must have been exposed to who knows…"

"Past tense, which means she would have been better now that she's not," Adam said.

"Same goes for House," Chase comments. "If this was about Cuddy, he would have checked out weeks ago. Something else is going on. Something new."

"That's an awfully simplistic approach to matters of the heart," Taub says.

"House is rational," Chase starts. "He prides himself…"

"No one is rational about emotion," Taub replies. "That's why they're emotions."

"What do you think," Foreman asks looking at Thirteen.

"Me? I didn't say anything," she replies.

"Exactly," Foreman states suspiciously. "You always have some opinion on these things, especially when it comes to House, double especially when it comes to men and romance, but suddenly you're keeping your mouth shut."

"House can't help us," Thirteen says. "I respect his privacy, no matter how stupid and I'd appreciate it if you'd respect mine."

Foreman nods slowly. "We need to treat the underlying condition. Could be cancer, sepsis, trauma, liver disease, hemorrhagic fever…"

"I'm gonna start treating the symptoms while you finish listing the possible causes," Taub says. He gets up and leaves.

Thirteen gets up as well and Adam follows her. He catches up to her once they're out of sight of Foreman and Chase. "You know something about House that you're not sharing," Adam says.

"Yes and I thought I was clear that I wasn't going to share no matter how politely anyone asks," Thirteen replies crossing her arms and glaring at Adam.

"I'm not being nosy, I'm genuinely concerned," he fires back. "I know that's difficult to believe around this madhouse but that's how I am. Now do we need to be worried about House or not?"

Thirteen is quiet for a moment studying Adam's expression. She reads honesty and concern. She shakes her head. "House is an idiot and absorbed in his own problems, but no, we don't need to worry."


	11. The Fix Part 3

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile at House's apartment, he's doing leg lifts again. As House pulls his leg up he releases it suddenly, grunting in pain and frustration. He rubs his thigh then hops down and undoes the ankle strap. He pulls the toiletry case out of a kitchen drawer and removes a syringe and the Compound CS-804. He looks at the packet, which is almost empty. House puts on a pair of pants and leaves his apartment.<p>

A short while later House arrives at the lab that's testing the drug he's been using.

"The rats are doing great," Dr. Riggin says. A man a little younger than House with balding hair and a cheesy mustache.

Great is a little vague," House responds.

"Even better than the previous study," Riggin says. "12% increase in strength, 22% in flexibility, and some improvement in at least 60% of the subjects."

"Have you done maximum tolerated dose studies," House asks.

"Not yet," Riggin says. "But that's part of the beauty. Since the compound is easily excreted in urine, as long as they keep hydrated, there's really no reason to expect any danger at virtually any dose. I mean, obviously you can't know for sure."

"But if it's worthy of the preface 'obviously,' then obviously it only needs to be explained to idiots," House says. "Do I look like an idiot?" Riggin looks offended. "Sorry. Cranky. What I meant to say was, why don't scientists have groupies? 'Cause I'd do you right now if society wasn't telling me that you're just an underpaid dork."

"Thank you," Riggin says. His expression says "Thank you, I think." House sits down and winces. "You all right?"

"Leg hurts," House says. "Would you mind getting me a coffee?"

"How does coffee help your leg," Riggin asks.

"It will prevent me from walking to get the coffee," House says.

"Right," Riggin replies.

He walks off. As soon as he leaves the room, House goes to the refrigerator and swipes a couple of packets of the compound. He returns to the chair and assumes a carefully nonchalant pose.

Meanwhile at the hospital Taub and Foreman are walking fast down a hall.

"Page said she's now bleeding from her mouth," Taub says.

"You start treatment," Foreman asks.

"I said I would," Taub fires back.

"A 'yes' would have been fine," Foreman responds.

"Not asking the question would have been even better," Taub says.

They enter Lee's room.

"Any breathing issues," Foreman asks.

"No, but…" Lee starts.

"I'm not sure it's internal," Gibbs says.

"If it's coming from both ends, it's internal," Taub says.

"Her gums look like they were burned," Gibbs points out.

Foreman pulls out a flashlight and Taub pulls down Lee's lower lip. Her gums are black.

Later House is doing his leg lifts on the kitchen table. He pants and massages his thigh then gets down and releases his ankle. He gives up and drops the rubber tubing and the kit in the trash. He walks into the living room, rubbing his thigh as he grabs his cane from the molding. He limps heavily to the fireplace. He opens a wood box on the mantle and takes out a bottle of Vicodin. Three pills go into his hand. He looks at them for a moment then pops them in his mouth. Back in the kitchen, he drinks from the faucet and swallows hard. As House stands there, leaning against the sink and panting, he thinks of something. House has his jacket over his arm and is walking quickly to his front door when there's a knock. House stops and waits.

"Experimental drugs," Wilson asks loudly through the closed door

House opens the door. "That's unfair," he says. "Cause at one point, even Vicodin was an experimental drug. I have to go."

"Well, unless you're going to do your job, it can wait," Wilson says.

"I'm going to do my job," House replies.

"I'll give you a lift," Wilson offers.

House turns back into the living room. "I'll give you two minutes," House says. "But first, I'm gonna tell you that I'm off the drugs and you'll feel silly 'cause you've got nothing to say for two minutes."

"Hmm, why are you off them," Wilson asks.

"Because they don't work," House replies.

"Why were you on them," Wilson persists.

"Because they come in banana flavor," House says sarcastically. "You know the answer."

"You think fixing your leg will fix your life," Wilson says.

"I think that my life will be somewhat better if part of my life, specifically my leg, is somewhat better," House responds.

"You think all your problems are your leg," Wilson says.

"And you're here to tell me that no matter how depressed I may be, it's not enough," House says.

"I think you want everything to be physical, tangible, simple. You want unhappiness to have a cure," Wilson says. House picks up his jacket which he had put on the couch. "House, you obviously…"

House stands and walks past Wilson. "I hate that word," House says. "I have to go now. Actually, I don't, but it would be rude to walk out without saying anything." He walks out.

Meanwhile at the Diagnostics Office, the table is covered with reference books. Taub is almost asleep with his head on the table.

"What about this," Chase says. "Twenty-eight year old woman presenting with burn-like wounds in her mouth and esophagus from a candidiasis infection."

"Interesting," Foreman starts. "It would also be relevant if the woman had had seizures."

"If the fungus had entered her bloodstream…" Adam began to say, backing Chase.

"We would have seen it in the blood work," Thirteen interrupts.

"Acute myeloid leukemia can cause swelling in the gums," Taub says.

"Again, interesting but not relevant," Foreman says.

"Again, you're being an ass," Taub fires back.

"She doesn't have a history of blood diseases in her family, her blood count's normal, and she hasn't been exposed to chemical toxins," Foreman says.

"Not that we know of," Taub snaps.

"Guy that she works most closely with is also her boyfriend," Chase says. "You don't think he would have told us if there had been some sort of chemical spill or accident?"

"There is one other cause of AML," Thirteen says.

A few moments later Thirteen, Foreman and Gibbs are rapidly wheeling Lee down the hall. Cesar follows them.

"Wait! Where are you taking her," Cesar asks.

"We need to get her into an isolation room and prep for a hematopoietic stem cell transplant," Foreman says.

"Isolation? Why," Cesar asks.

"We think her blood and immune system have been destroyed by an exposure to ionizing radiation," Thirteen says.

"But we don't work with radiation," Cesar says.

"Well, apparently your girlfriend does," Thirteen says.

Cesar grabs the bed and stops them. "No, she doesn't," he says. "You're wrong. It must be something else."

"We found reports that your company was developing tactical nuclear warheads for bunker-busting bombs," Thirteen says.

"Where," Cesar asks. "On Wikipedia? Some paranoid idiot's blog? I don't care where you read it. It's not true."

"You're saying there's absolutely no chance that anyone in your company is doing any experimental research that you don't know about," Foreman asks.

"No, but I know Wendy and she wouldn't," Cesar says.

"Well, maybe you don't know her as well as you thought you did," Thirteen says.

"Excuse me. We have to go," Foreman says. They wheel the bed around a corner.

Meanwhile, House in his car, turns a corner and catches up with Foley who is jogging. House leans out the window, "You need a drink."

"I'm fine," Foley replies.

"That wasn't a question," House says. "You really do need a drink." Foley slows down, then stops running.

Meanwhile in Isolation.

"Found a match," Foreman says. "We'll start treatment as soon as we get the HSC from the donor. Shouldn't be long."

"Where's Cesar," Lee asks.

"Uh, he's in the waiting room," Foreman says.

"I want to see him," Lee says.

"You can't," Foreman says shaking his head. "It's too dangerous with your immune system this compromised."

"Why can't he just put on a gown and a mask like you," Lee asks.

"I'm sorry," Foreman says. "The more people you're exposed to, the greater chance of infection."

"I'm scared," Lee says.

"I know," Foreman replies. "We're doing everything that we can. Cesar will be with you soon.'

'Dr. Foreman, you should look at this," Nurse Gibbs says.

"What is it," Lee asks.

"You feeling any pain in your pelvic region," Foreman asks.

"No, why," Lee asks.

"Your genitals… they're engorged," Foreman responds.

Meanwhile House has parked his car on the street and he's watching Foley down a one-liter bottle of water.

"I drink any more, I'm gonna explode," Foley says.

"You're not going to explode," House says. "You're just gonna have a seizure, which will prove that your kidneys are not working, which will also prove that they weren't working Saturday night. That's why a glancing body blow sent your blood pressure into the toilet and you onto the canvas."

"How many bottles is this supposed to take," Foley asks.

"Six," House says.

"And I've drank how many," Foley asks.

House looks in the trunk. "Eight. It's not an exact science."

"So in other words, nothing's gonna prove you wrong," Foley says. "You're just gonna keep making me miserable because you're too miserable…"

"You're an idiot," House says. Foley looks understandably angry. "No, you're not gonna hit me… 'Cause somewhere deep in that way-too-thin skull of yours you know that you're full of crap. That's why you stopped jogging for me. That's why you drank eight bottles. Because even though you want to think that I'm wrong 'cause it's simpler, you also desperately want me to be right. I'm only an ass for building your hopes up if I'm wrong." He hands Foley another full bottle. "Last one."

Foley takes the bottle and drains it. He tosses the empty into the trunk. House observes him closely. Nothing happens. "You're an ass," Foley says. He leaves.

Later on the door flies open to Wilson's office and House enters. He walks to the desk and extends a fifty dollar bill. Wilson spreads his arms wide in acknowledgement, then takes it.

"You were wrong," Wilson says. "It's not the end of the world."

House lays his cane on the desk and sweeps everything to the floor. Wilson looks mildly nervous. "Anything else you want to say," House asks.

Wilson pauses and takes a deep breath. "You have a problem. I think if you seriously look at everything that…"

House walks behind the desk and smashes the glass in the Vertigo poster's frame. "Anything else," House asks.

"Okay, look, this isn't…" Wilson starts but House raises his cane and turns toward the Ordinary People poster. Wilson jumps up to stop him. "Okay! Okay! Okay! Okay!" House stands back but keeps his cane ready. He looks pissed. "No… I don't," Wilson gestures locking his mouth and throwing away the key. "Just get out of here. Go home. We'll talk later. Someplace without any of my stuff."

"Nothing to talk about," House says. "That was my point." He leaves. Wilson looks at the wreckage.

Later that night Thirteen walks into the Diagnostics Office. Chase, Adam, and Foreman are already there.

"Inflammation of the genitals means we were wrong," Adam says rubbing his goatee.

"Thanks for the statement of the obvious," Thirteen comments annoyed.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you," Chase comes in and takes a seat. "Foreman wants to keep shooting for radiation poisoning."

"Because the seizures have stopped. Because her fever's gone away. Because she's improved," Foreman argues.

"By luck," Chase says.

"I don't think the patient cares," Foreman says.

"Yes, she's gonna die in considerably less discomfort thanks to you treating a few of the symptoms instead of the disease," Chase mocks.

Taub tries to interject, "I paged Ho…"

"Shut up," Chase and Foreman say at the same time.

Meanwhile at a bar.

"You're drunk," the bartender says.

"Well, whose fault is that," House asks. "Give me another scotch."

"I can't serve you," the bartender says.

"This 'cause I'm black," House asks. "'Cause I'm not, so…"

"Come on, buddy," the bartender says. The bartender is drying glasses behind the bar. House is a few feet away, at the banquette next to the room divider.

"Look, you can't get me drunk and then give me crap for being drunk," House says. "That's like dumping someone and then giving them crap for being upset. That's just not decent. Let me explain why people come here." He gets up and lurches over to the bar. "They come here to drink. Which causes us to ask, why do people drink? Hmm? Is it sustenance?" He grabs a guy's bottle of beer and reads the label. "No. Is it taste?" He takes a swig of the guy's beer. "No."

"Don't be a jerk," the guy says.

"Is it the company of stout-hearted men," House asks. "I don't think so. Is it killing pain? Yes." House looks at the bottle again. "Seven and a half percent life duller. That's the business you're in. You're in the 'screw the world' business. You're in the 'reality sucks and fantasy temporarily appears to not suck' business."

"Just get the moron a drink so he'll shut the hell up," another person says.

The bartender puts the dry glass down and goes to get House a drink.

"No," House says angrily.

"I'm giving you your drink," the bartender says confused.

"Have you no pride," House asks. "Either serving me is a good idea or it's a bad idea. Shutting me up is a crappy reason for compromising what you believe."

"Not even an effective one apparently," a patron says.

House thinks this over. He leans his elbows on the bar and gestures for the bartender to come over. "Am I gonna have to hit him," House asks.

"Not a good idea," the bartender says shaking his head.

"But what if it's the right thing to do," House asks. "Compromise is never the answer." He turns to Fellow Patron, who is sitting on the side of the bar, and gets into a boxing stance. "Stand up. I will allow you to throw the first punch."

"Sit down," the patron says. "I'm not gonna hit you."

"Just as well, 'cause I was lying," House says. He swings, the patron leans back and House misses. He freezes as he realizes that almost all of his weight is on his right leg. And it's holding him. The patron throws a punch. This one connects and House lands on the floor.


	12. The Fix Part 4

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing it. This chapter has the team going to the concert that Adam had tickets for. For full effect I recommend having Avenged Sevenfold's Gunslinger, Scream, and A Little Piece of Heaven ready to play when you get to the appropriate parts. Please let me know what you think of this episode. Almost finished with Season 7 and can bring in some all original things. Have some big plans ahead for everyone. Feedback always welcome. Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>A little later in the hallway outside Isolation.<p>

"You can relax," Thirteen says.

"She's getting better," Cesar asks.

"Bad news is, because of your extended exposure to her and her workplace, we're gonna need to treat you as well," Chase says.

"I feel fine," Cesar replies.

"Unfortunately that's the way it can be with radiation," Thirteen says. "No symptoms until it's too late to do anything."

"You're gonna need a bone marrow transplant," Chase says.

Cesar chuckles, "No."

"A marrow transplant does leave you exposed to all sorts of illnesses, but there really is no choice here," Thirteen says.

"She doesn't have radiation poisoning," Cesar says.

"She's getting better," Chase says strongly.

"We need to start your treatment before it's too late," Thirteen says.

"No," Cesar yells.

"You're either suicidal or you know we're wrong," Chase says. "And the only way you could know for sure what wasn't killing her is if you knew what was. And you do, don't you?"

"Because you've been poisoning her and the reason she's getting better is because you haven't been near her," Thirteen reasons.

"Our co-workers are on their way to your home right now to search for poisons," Chase says. "You mind saving them the trouble?"

"Attempted murder is better than murder," Thirteen says.

Cesar hangs his head and shakes it a little.

Meanwhile at House's apartment, he's doing his leg lifts again. This time he effortlessly extends his leg fully and he rotates the ankle. He hops off the table, releases the strap and gives his thigh a rub. He's smiling. He heads into the living room. He has a very pretty, purple bruise under his right eye. House unhooks his cane and gives it a twirl. He accidentally taps himself at the top of his spinal cord, reaches back and touches himself there again. A look of realization spreads across his face.

Later on at the gym, it's still dark. Foley enters and punches can be heard landing. It's House, working out with a heavy bag. No one else is there.

"What are you doing here," Foley asks.

"Training for my big fight," House says. "Just need you to…"

"Drink five more bottles," Foley asks. "Get punched a few more times? Look, just get out and give up."

"That's your specialty," House says.

Foley scoffs, "Ooh, looks like you already lost your big fight." House takes down his cane. As Foley passes, House presses the bottom of the cane to the base of Foley's neck. Foley turns around, angry. "Look, I may not be able to take a punch, but I can still throw one."

"Three, two…" House is counting. Foley starts to demonstrate but falls over, unconscious. "What a lovely day."

Meanwhile at the hospital in Lee's room. Thirteen is checking her out.

"Where's Cesar," Lee asks.

"Um… in jail," Thirteen says plainly not knowing how to get around it. "He was trying to kill you. He found out about you and Glenn, which, he admitted, shouldn't have surprised him since he started seeing you while you were dating Tony."

"He poisoned me," Lee asks.

"Repeatedly… with Spanish fly," Thirteen says. "The active ingredient cantharidin is a potent toxin and can cause a lot of the same damage as radiation."

"He poisoned me," Lee asked again in disbelief.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen says.

"He had a security clearance," Lee says.

A little later in Wilson's office, a hand appears through the open doorway. "Ahem," House calls out." Wilson looks up. "What's this?" House enters "A palm. Hmm, useful for many things. Slapping, greasing, probably some other applications too. Right now it's ready for $50 and humiliation."

"He was actually sick," Wilson asks shocked.

"He wasn't knocked out by the punch," House says. "He was knocked out by the clinch before the punch. Took a shot to the back of the neck. More specifically, to an abnormal growth of nerves caused by a glomus tumor. Kind of like a built-in taser. Sent a massive shock to his entire body, shut everything down."

"Wow," Wilson says sarcastically. "Fascinating. Completely explains exactly how he lost."

"Oh, you are not gonna be like that," House says. "'Cause you got a lot more posters here."

"No, I'm not," Wilson says. "Well done, House. You might have saved that guy. Given him his life back."

"Oh, no. He needs surgery," House says. "He's never gonna fight again." Wilson gives him the money. House starts to leave.

"What happened to your eye," Wilson asks. "You okay?"

"Better than okay," House responds.

Later that evening, Adam, Chase, Taub, Foreman, and Thirteen show their backstage passes at the event center and walk inside. After getting past security they walk down a long hall, Adam slightly ahead of the others. "Hey there he is, Adam you son of a bitch. Get over here," says someone who can't be seen clearly.

Adam limped over and embraced the man who had hollered at him. "Sorry we're late, the Aussie got lost," Adam said pointing back at Chase.

"Hey no worries but we're about to go on so we'll have to catch up later. These are all doctors?"

"Yes," Adam replies. "This is the diagnostics team of Princeton Plainsburrow. This is Eric Foreman, Chris Taub, Robert Chase, and Thirteen. Guys this is Avenged Sevenfold. Synester Gates, Johnny Christ, Zacky Vengeance, Mike Portnoy, and of course, Matt Shadows."

"Nice to meet you all," Matt said. "Make sure to stick around after the show ok. Why don't you hang out on stage with the crew? They'll show you where the best spots are. See you soon man." Matt and the others go on stage to get started.

"This is going to be awesome," Adam says. The crew shows them a spot on the side of the stage for them all to stand. The band starts their setlist with Nightmare and proceeds to play through Welcome to the Family, Bat Country, Afterlife, So Far Away, and Critical Acclaim.

"It's great to be here at the McCarter Theatre Center here in NEW JERSEY!" Shadows says to the crowd who cheers in response. "We've got a few friends backstage that I want to bring on out here. I think we have a great job hanging out with all of you, but these guys have a truly sweet job, don't you think so?"

"Yeah I think so," Synester says and plays a short riff on his guitar.

"These guys are all doctors," Matt says. "Give it up for the Diagnostics Department of Princeton Plainsburrow!" The crowd cheers again.

Adam and the others walk out on stage. Adam and Matt shake hands and embrace while the others just wave nervously.

"Do me a favor guys give Adam a mic," Matt says. One of the stage crew comes out and hands Adam a microphone. "My buddy Adam is gonna help me out here. You guys ok with that?" The crowd cheers again. Adam smiles and nods gratefully to Matt. Chase, Taub, Thirteen, and Foreman look back and forth at each other a little shocked at what's happening. They are all smiling though and appear to be having a good time. "You know there are a lot of men and women out there fighting a war. Fighting for what this country stands for and fighting for our way of life. And this next one is for all of those men and women. We hope they come home soon, and we hope they come home safe. This one's called Gunslinger."

Zacky starts playing his acoustic. Matt looks over at Adam. "Start us off Adam."

Adam uses his cane to help him step on top of one of the monitors and holds up the microphone.

Yeah, you've been alone

I've been gone for far too long

But with all that we've been through

After all this time I'm coming home to you

Never let it show

The pain I've grown to know

'Cause with all these things we do

It don't matter when I'm coming home to you

I reach towards the sky I've said my goodbyes

My heart's always with you now

I won't question why so many have died

My prayers have made it through yeah

'Cause with all these things we do

It don't matter when I'm coming home to you

Matt jumps in. "YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH YEEEAAAAHHH! !"

Both of them sing now.

Letters keep me warm

Helped me through the storm

But with all that we've been through

After all this time I'm coming home to you

I reach towards the sky I've said my goodbyes

My heart's always with you now

I won't question why so many have died

My prayers have made it through yeah

'Cause with all these things we do

It don't matter when I'm coming home to you

I've always been true

I've waited so long just to come hold you

I'm making it through

It's been far too long, we've proven our

Love over time's so strong, in all that we do

The stars in the night, they lend me their light

To bring me closer to heaven with you

Bring me closer

'Cause with all that we've been through

After all this time I'm coming home to you

I reach towards the sky I've said my goodbyes

My heart's always with you now

I won't question why so many have died

My prayers have made it through yeah

'Cause with all these things we do

It don't matter when I'm coming home to you

And with all that we've been through

After all this time I'm coming home to you

The music stops and the crowd goes wild. The lights go out for a minute and lighters begin to spring up amongst the crowd. A woman's scream plays over the P.A. system and then the music starts again. Lights come back onstage and the band has been joined by several dancers. Some of the dancers begin to gravitate towards the doctors who are on stage. Chase and Thirteen are the first to cut loose and dance with them. This time Matt starts the song and Adam jumps in during the second verse.

Caught up in this madness, too blind to see  
>Woke animal feelings in me<br>Took over my sense and I lost control  
>I'll taste your blood tonight<p>

You know I make you wanna scream  
>You know I make you wanna run from me, baby<br>But no, it's too late, you've wasted all your time

Relax while you're closing your eyes to me  
>So warm as I'm setting you free<br>With your arms by your side there's no struggling  
>Pleasure's all mine this time<p>

Ooh, you know I make you wanna scream  
>You know I make you wanna run from me, baby<br>But no, it's too late, you've wasted all your time

Cherishing those feelings  
>Pleasuring<br>Cover me  
>Unwanted clemency<p>

Scream 'til there's silence  
>Scream while there's life left vanishing<br>Scream from the pleasure  
>Unmask your desire, perishing<p>

We've all had a time where we've lost control  
>We've all had our time to grow<br>I'm hoping I'm wrong but I know I'm right  
>I'll hunt again one night<p>

Ooh, you know I make you wanna scream  
>You know I make you wanna run from me, baby<br>But no, it's too late, you've wasted all your time

Cherishing those feelings  
>Pleasuring<br>Cover me  
>Unwanted clemency<p>

Scream 'til there's silence  
>Scream while there's life left vanishing<br>Scream from the pleasure  
>Unmask your desire, perishing<p>

By this time, Foreman and Taub are dancing with the ladies as well. Thirteen is really getting into it and has moved over to where Adam is standing on stage. She and one of the dancers are dancing provocatively next to him.

Some live repressing their instinctive feelings  
>Protest the way we're built<br>Don't point the blame on me

Scream! Scream! Scream!  
>The way you would if I ravaged your body<br>Scream! Scream! Scream!  
>The way you would if I ravaged your mind<p>

Cherishing those feeling  
>Pleasuring<br>Cover me  
>Unwanted clemency<p>

Scream 'til there's silence  
>Scream while there's life left vanishing<br>Scream from the pleasure  
>Unmask your desire, perishing<p>

The music begins to fade out and finally ends. The crowd is going crazy again and the girls leave the stage. Chase, Thirteen, Taub, and Foreman regroup near Adam and all clap him on the back. Thirteen gives him a kiss on the cheek. They are all smiling and celebrating. Adam starts to walk off but Matt walks over and puts his hand on his shoulder stopping him.

"Adam, Adam hang on man one more." Adam shakes his head while smiling. "Oh come on Adam." Matt jumps up on one of the monitors and addresses the audience. "You guys want Adam to sing one more song with us?" The crowd goes wild, cheering and hollering for Adam. "I can't hear you do you want to see Adam sing one more song?" The crowd cheers louder this time and starts to chant his name. "You better give them what they want," Matt says jokingly to Adam.

The four doctors pat Adam on the back and shout encouragement to him. Adam turns to the crowd and nods holding up the microphone in a salute to them. The crowd cheers and Matt nods while some music starts in the background for A Little Piece of Heaven. Adam's eyes grow big and he looks at Matt and shakes his head. He's protesting the song that the rest of the band has started playing but no one is listening to him. Matt walks over and whispers in Adam's ear that he can do it but Adam keeps shaking his head no. Matt walks to the other side of the stage and stands up on a monitor to start the song. Adam didn't start singing when Matt did. The rest of the doctors look puzzled at Adam. He has a painful look on his face.

Before the story begins, is it such a sin,  
>For me to take what's mine, until the end of time<br>We were more than friends, before the story ends,  
>And I will take what's mine, create what God would never design<p>

Our love had been so strong for far too long,  
>I was weak with fear that something would go wrong,<br>Before the possibilities came true,  
>I took all possibility from you<p>

Almost laughed myself to tears,  
>Conjuring her deepest fears<p>

At this point Adam finally jumps in to sing. Matt looks at Adam with a large grin on his face

Must have stabbed her fifty fucking times,  
>I can't believe it,<br>Ripped her heart out right before her eyes,  
>Eyes over easy, eat it, eat it, eat it<p>

She was never this good in bed even when she was sleeping  
>Now she's just so perfect I've never been quite so fucking deep in<br>It goes on and on and on,  
>I can keep you looking young and preserved forever,<br>With a fountain to spray on your youth whenever

'Cause I really always knew that my little crime  
>Would be cold that's why I got a heater for your thighs<br>And I know, I know it's not your time  
>But bye, bye<br>And a word to the wise when the fire dies  
>You think it's over but it's just begun<br>But baby don't cry

You had my heart, at least for the most part  
>'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime,<br>We fell apart, let's make a new start  
>'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime, yeah yeah<br>But baby don't cry

Now possibilities I'd never considered,  
>Are occurring the likes of which I'd never heard,<br>Now an angry soul comes back from beyond the grave,  
>To repossess a body with which I'd misbehaved<p>

Smiling right from ear to ear  
>Almost laughed herself to tears<p>

Must have stabbed him fifty fucking times  
>I can't believe it<br>Ripped his heart out right before his eyes  
>Eyes over easy, eat it, eat it, eat it<p>

Now that it's done I realize the error of my ways  
>I must venture back to apologize from somewhere far beyond the grave<p>

I gotta make up for what I've done  
>'Cause I was all up in a piece of heaven<br>While you burned in hell, no peace forever

'Cause I really always knew that my little crime  
>Would be cold that's why I got a heater for your thighs<br>And I know, I know it's not your time  
>But bye, bye<br>And a word to the wise when the fire dies  
>You think it's over but it's just begun<br>But baby don't cry

You had my heart, at least for the most part  
>'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime,<br>We fell apart, let's make a new start  
>'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime, yeah yeah<br>But baby don't cry

Adam can be seen crying by those on stage, but the crowd can't see it. Chase, Thirteen, Taub, and Foreman look back and forth at each other not sure what to do. They decide to clap showing their support as the song goes along. Adam and Matt go back and forth for the next set of lyrics.

I will suffer for so long  
>(What will you do, not long enough)<br>To make it up to you  
>(I pray to God that you do)<br>I'll do whatever you want me to do  
>(Well then I'll grant you one chance)<br>And if it's not enough  
>(If it's not enough, If it's not enough)<br>If it's not enough  
>(Not enough)<br>Try again  
>(Try again)<br>And again  
>(And again)<br>Over and over again

We're coming back, coming back  
>We'll live forever, live forever<br>Let's have wedding, have a wedding  
>Let's start the killing, start the killing<p>

Matt makes his way over to Adam and high fives him in what seems like celebration to everyone else. But in reality he was trying to cheer Adam up a little. When the chorus hums Adam and Matt simultaneously climb on top of adjacent monitors and wave their hands like conductors leading the chorus.

Do you take this man in death for the rest of your unnatural life?  
>Yes, I do<br>Do you take this woman in death for the rest of your unnatural life?  
>I do<br>I now pronounce you man and…

'Cause I really always knew that my little crime  
>Would be cold that's why I got a heater for your thighs<br>And I know, I know it's not your time  
>But bye, bye<br>And a word to the wise when the fire dies  
>You think it's over but it's just begun<br>But baby don't cry

You had my heart, at least for the most part  
>'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime,<br>We fell apart, let's make a new start  
>'Cause everybody's gotta die sometime, yeah yeah<br>But baby don't cry

As the music finishes the crowd goes nuts, erupting with cheers. Adam blinks the tears away in his eyes and Matt walks over and hugs him. Adam hands the mic back to Matt. "Give it up for Adam and the Doctors of Princeton Plainsburrow!" Matt screams to the crowd pointing at the doctors on stage. The crowd responds and cheers exuberantly. Adam limps with his cane off stage and the other four doctors follow him.

"Adam! That was brilliant mate," Chase says clapping him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, how come you never told us you could sing," Thirteen says after giving him a big hug. Foreman and Taub are smiling and laughing as well.

"Don't want to let all my secrets out at once," Adam says nonchalantly.

He smiles to each of them and grabs a beer from nearby. Adam opens the bottle and takes a good swig. In the background he can hear Avenged Sevenfold playing their encore song Beast and the Harlot. Thirteen notices a pained look in Adam's eyes. He hides it well and the other three doctors don't notice it. She takes a drink of her own beer and walks over to Adam leaning her head on his shoulder. She doesn't say a word, it's just her way of passively offering comfort. Chase, Foreman, and Taub are all flirting with some of the dancers from earlier while Adam and Thirteen watch the rest of the encore. In a few minutes the music stops and the lights go out. The band walks off the stage and greets the doctors again.

"Hey Adam, I didn't know bro I'm sorry," Matt says hugging Adam.

Adam returns the hug. "It's okay Matt. Really, don't worry about it. Hell of a show out there y'all. Well done." He high fives the other band members as they come over. They all grab a beer and head to the dressing room. Matt and Thirteen stay close to Adam as they walk. The dancers have joined the group along with the musicians' wives and they are all laughing and talking about the show. Adam pulls his bottle of tramadol from his jacket pocket and pops two pills. He takes another drink of his beer and rubs his leg. A boom box is playing Motley Crue's Dr. Feelgood in the background. Everyone gathers up and toasts to the night.

Back in House's kitchen, House goes to the trash and takes out the drugs. He then takes off his jacket as he goes into the living room.

Meanwhile at the mice lab Dr. Riggin is closing up. He takes off his lab coat and walks over to one of the cages. The rat inside is dead, lying on its exercise wheel.


	13. After Hours Part 1

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy

**A/N: Sorry all. Thought I had uploaded this episode already. Apparently not so the next few chapters will be uploaded quickly. Just going to give them a good look over one more time to make sure I'm happy with them. Something to note, from here on out I will be referring to Adam by his last name Trzaska (T-R-A-S-K-A). Realized he was the only regular character I was referring to by his first name and thought I should start using his last.**

**Exciting things ahead as Trzaska works on his first case solo. As always please leave reviews. Enjoy**

* * *

><p>It's dark and only the steering wheel and the driver's side window can be seen in the glow of neon lights. Police sirens are heard in the background. Suddenly, the window is smashed with a metal pipe, which is then thrown to the ground with a clang. A hand reaches through the window to unlock and open the door. A woman quickly enters the car. Her right hand is covered in blood and her hair is unkempt. She hotwires the car and peels away from the scene, driving erratically. Driving with only her left hand, and way too fast, she veers around the other cars on the road. She is grunting and shaking as if in pain.<p>

She manages to program a GPS on the dashboard with her shaking and bloody right hand, then continues racing down the freeway. She glances down at her waist where her right hand is putting pressure on a large bloody wound. She finally spins around a corner and screeches to a halt in front of an apartment building in an older part of town, knocking over a newspaper vending box in the process.

She gets out of the car still holding her side, and breathing fast and hard. She stumbles through the front door of the building. She falls against the wall as she enters, then starts up a flight of stairs lit only with the red neon "exit" sign. She pauses to rest halfway up the stairs, bending over and grunting in pain. She pushes open the door at the top of the stairs and weaves her way down the hallway, looking at apartment numbers. She falls against the door of apartment number 3 and bangs on the door persistently. The door opens to reveal Thirteen.

"Darrien," Thirteen says confused.

Darrien and Thirteen are standing in the front hallway of Thirteen's apartment

Thirteen sees all the blood. "What the hell happened? We got to get you to a hospital."

"No, you're a doctor," Darrien says. "Just stitch me up."

"It's more complicated than that," Thirteen says. "We need to check for…"

"The cops will be waiting for me at the hospital," Darrien interrupts. "They're gonna bust me back inside just for being with felons."

"You stay here, they bust me," Thirteen says.

"I can't go back, Remy," Darrien says stubbornly.

"Neither can I," Thirteen says. "God forbid you die, I'm up for manslaughter."

"I'll find someone else," Darrien says angry. Darrien starts for the front door

"You leave, you bleed out," Thirteen says. "You're gonna die." As Darrien opens the front door, Thirteen rushes forward and slams it shut. "Stop."

"Promise me, you won't take me to the hospital," Darrien says.

"I promise," Thirteen says

Meanwhile at the hospital, Trzaska is looking at an MRI of a brain. The name on the side of the film reads Riley Kaplan.

"Well, the good news is, it doesn't look like a stroke," Trzaska says. "No bleeds, no clots."

"Thank God," her husband Shane says sitting next to Riley's bed holding her hand.

"It sounds like there's bad news," Riley says.

"Well your blood work came back," Trzaska starts. "Some things are a little off. Your liver and kidneys aren't working so well."

"Why, what would cause that," Shane asks.

"It's preeclampsia, isn't it," Riley asks. "I'm gonna miscarry, aren't I?"

"Preeclampsia is a possibility, but let's not get ahead of ourselves," Trzaska replies.

"I've miscarried three times, I'm 39, we had to use in vitro, you've gotta make sure that the baby's okay," Riley says.

"Let's make sure that you're okay, first," Shane says.

"How about we take care of both of you at the same time," Trzaska suggests. "The nurse will be in soon to draw some blood; I'd like to run some more tests."

"Thank you, Doctor," Riley says.

"Thank you," Shane says.

Trzaska leaves, and limps up to Chase who is standing at the nurse's station checking out one of the E.R. nurses. He has his O.R. scrubs on.

"Ready to go mate," Chase asks.

"No, Cuddy's making me pull an E.R. shift, says she's short on staff, and since I did an internship in emergency, I'm the lucky one."

"Yikes," Chase replies taking a drink of water.

"You thinking chardonnay or merlot tonight," Trzaska asks not looking in the direction of the nurse Chase was ogling.

"I don't know, to be brutally honest," Chase replies. "Thinking of just staying in if my wingman can't come out with me."

"Yeah," Trzaska laughs to himself. "The cane is just a chick magnet."

Chase raises his cup toasting Trzaska and turns around to walk away.

"Hey Robert, hang on a second," Trzaska says limping toward Chase. "Let me run this by you real quick." He holds the chart out for Chase to look at. "Thirty-nine year old female, twenty-eight weeks pregnant, G4P0."

"Bad luck for her. Three miscarriages," Chase asks taking the file and looking at it.

"Altered mental status and complete loss of coordination," Trzaska says.

"Tox screen," Chase asks.

"Negative for alcohol and drugs," Trzaska replies. "She was on oxybutynin," though.

"For incontinence," Chase says.

"We took her off, but no change," Trzaska replies. "BUN, creatinine are up, LFT slightly elevated."

"Preeclampsia," Chase says. "Call the OB-GYN service and rub some prayer beads."

"BP's normal," Trzaska replies. "No preeclampsia in other pregnancies."

"Because she didn't carry long enough," Chase says closing the file and handing it back.

"The three miscarriages make me think it's an underlying physiology," Trzaska says.

"Pregnancy-related autoimmunity," Chase suggests. "Check the blood and do an MRA for vasculitis."

"Thanks Robert. I'll do an ultrasound too and put her on magnesium in case it is preeclampsia." Trzaska looks at the clock, pulls his prescription bottle out and pops two tramadol.

"No problem," Chase says. "See you in the morning."

Chase and Trzaska part ways the latter ordering up the tests he needs.

Meanwhile at House's apartment, House is sitting on the piano bench with a guitar in his lap. "Look at how much fun she's having."

Emily, a hooker, sits across from him, holding a copy of the _Kama Sutra_. She is dressed in a skimpy red teddy and is covered in tattoos. "That's because he has two functioning legs, capable of supporting her body weight."

"So do I," House says.

"You told me most of your muscle was cut out," Emily responds confused.

"I was going for the sympathy discount," House says. "Been taking some experimental medicine." House reaches for a glass of whiskey on the coffee table. Beside the whiskey bottle sits a round metal tray containing some white powder and a small, empty plastic bag. Beside the tray is a spoon and a syringe.

"Yeah, I got a lot of clients on experimental medicine," Emily says.

House puts the glass back on the table and the guitar onto its stand, and gets up. "You want proof," House asks.

Emily sets the book on the table as House goes around behind a stack of two Fender amplifiers. Emily crosses her legs, waiting to see what he is up to.

"Okay, this amp stack weighs way more than you do," House says. He squats down, puts his arms around the stack of amps, and, grunting, lifts the amps off the floor and walks forward with them. "See? Now, even if those implants were made of adamantium, I'd still be able to…" Emily jumps aside as House loses his balance and the top amp crashes down onto the table, breaking the glass top. House sets the other amp down on the floor and pushes himself into a standing position, rubbing at his right thigh. "Sorry. Cramp." He says laughing.

"I'm sure," Emily says.

House kneels down in the broken glass, turns the metal tray upright, and picks up the empty plastic bag. He spills what little powder is left in the bag onto the floor, then tosses it aside and looks disparagingly up at Emily. He sighs, "I'm not gonna be needing your services tonight after all."

Back at Thirteen's apartment, Darrien is lying on the couch and her knife wound has been cleaned. Thirteen, wearing latex gloves, inserts two fingers into the wound. Darrien is screaming in pain as Thirteen feels around inside the wound. "Aaah! Aah! Aah! Aah! Aah!" Darien screams.

"Bowel's intact," Thirteen says feeling around. "Inferior vena cava's fine."

"Aah! Aah!" Darrien continues to scream.

"Liver got nicked, but it feels clotted off," Thirteen says. She pulls her fingers out of the wound and examines Darrien's mouth and gums. "I don't see any other signs of internal bleeding."

"So I'm okay," Darrien asks.

Thirteen reaches for a blood pressure cuff and wraps it around Darrien's left arm. "Define okay. And just because I don't see bleeding doesn't mean it's not there." Thirteen pumps up the blood pressure machine. "105 over palp. I'm gonna check your pressure every two minutes. If you dip below 90, it means it is there and we have a problem."

On the other side of town, Foreman enters his apartment. He has earbuds in his ears and a towel draped over his shoulder. He's heading to the shower to clean up from working out. He stops and takes the buds out of his ears as he enters the living room. "Oh. Sorry," Foreman says.

Taub and Ruby are sitting on the couch. They look up at Foreman as he enters. Taub looks worried. Ruby gets up. "I should get to work," she says.

"Wait," Taub says. "Ruby."

"We'll talk more in the morning," Ruby says. Ruby grabs her sweater and moves toward the front door, passing Foreman as she leaves. "Good night, Eric."

"You two breaking up," Foreman asks Taub as the door closes from Ruby leaving.

"She's pregnant," Taub says getting up from the couch. "I need a drink."

Meanwhile Trzaska goes back into Riley's room. "Hey, there, all set for your ultrasound," Trzaska asks.

Riley nods and a nurse wheels in a portable ultrasound machine. A short while later Trzaska is performing the ultrasound on Riley. Everything looks good on the screen.

"Well, ultrasound looks good," Trzaska says. "No sign of fetal distress."

"So it's not preeclampsia," Riley asks.

"Well, it still could be, but it hasn't progressed at least," Trzaska responds. "We're gonna put you on bed rest and monitor the baby."

"Okay," Riley says. She takes some food from her tray and eats it.

"We'll give you some potassium and magnesium as well," Trzaska says. "So, we should keep the fluids running for now and check her again in an hour unless there are signs of fetal distress or…" Riley begins to choke.

"Honey? Wha…uh, she's choking," Shane says panicking.

"Lean forward, Trzaska says."

"What is, is she all right," Shane asks.

"It's probably just some muscle weakness," Trzaska says. They put Riley on her back, and Trzaska starts to remove the offending food with tweezers.

"What do you mean, probably," Shane asks still panicking.

"Riley, open up," Trzaska says.

"People choke, it could be nothing," Trzaska says getting the piece of pear that was lodged in Riley's throat. "You all right?"

"I can't, I can't, I can't even swallow," Riley says upset.

Later, Riley is in the MRI machine.

"Don't see any signs of vasculitis," Trzaska says to himself.

"Oh, no," Riley says.

"Riley, you okay," Trzaska asks speaking through the intercom.

"I'm getting cramps," Riley says.

Trzaska rushes out to get her. "Strong?"

"Yeah," Riley replies. "Feels like my miscarriage."

"It's preterm labor," Trzaska says.

"He's too little, he won't survive," Riley cries.

"She's on magnesium already," the radiology nurse says.

"Fuse interbutoline, then," Trzaska says to the nurse. "We're going to give you some medicine, okay," he says to Riley. "Try to stop your labor."

"Okay," Riley says nodding. They inject her with the medication.

Trzaska limps to up to the locker room to see if Chase has left yet. He finds Chase's bag is missing which tells him Chase had already gone home.

He carries the file down the hall and knocks on Wilson's office door.

"Come in," Wilson calls from the other side.

Trzaska walks in with his patient's file. "Dr. Wilson, hi, I was wondering if I could get your opinion on something. I understand it that House has holds your opinion in high regard."

"I wouldn't exactly go that far," Wilson says smiling from his desk. He holds out his hand taking the file from Trzaska and spends a few minutes looking over it.

"She might make it to full term," Trzaska says while Wilson is still reading. "Contractions are less frequent and not well organized."

"Preeclampsia," Wilson suggests. "A little stress from the MRA, she pops straight into labor."

"What about the myasthenia," Trzaska asks. "She choked, she couldn't even swallow."

"What did she choke on," Wilson asks.

"Her food," Trzaska replies. "The muscle weakness isn't a symptom of preeclampsia."

"What kind of food," Wilson asks.

"A little bit of cooked pear, it doesn't matter," Trzaska says. "It shows weakness."

"She choked on soft, wet pear," Wilson asks. "Did you do an upper endoscopy?"

"You think there's something obstructing her esophagus," Trzaska asks back.

"I can't think of another reason why someone would choke on something soft," Wilson says handing back the file.

Trzaska leaves the office and goes back to do another workup on Riley.

Back at Thirteen's apartment, Darrien is still lying on the couch with Thirteen monitoring her.

"There was a raid," Darrien says. "Andre needed to do something to slow the cops down."

"He stabbed you as a distraction," Thirteen asks confounded.

"Didn't work," Darrien says. "Cops called an ambulance, left me lying there."

Thirteen begins to pump up the blood pressure cuff again.

"Oh, come on. Give me crap," Darrien says. "I know what I told you about him, but it's not his fault I started using again. It's mine."

Thirteen looks at Darrien.

"What," Darrien asks.

"According to this, you're dead," Thirteen responds. "You have no blood pressure. You barely have a pulse." She pulls off the blood pressure cuff

"Am I dying," Darrien asks.

"You're talking and alert, so your brain is getting blood," Thirteen says. Thirteen wraps the blood pressure cuff around Darrien's right arms and pumps it up. "Pulse in your right arm is fine. So is your B.P."

Chase is asleep in his bed with a copy of a book about the Crusades spread open on his chest. His cell phone vibrates, waking him up. He gropes for the phone on the nightstand and sleepily answers the phone. "Hello."

"Are you busy," Thirteen asks on the other end.

"Yeah, I'm, uh, I'm about to go out," Chase lies.

"Great," Thirteen replies. "Uh, can you do me a huge favor? I need you to go to the hospital and check out a portable ultrasound machine for me."

"Who's the father," Chase asks jokingly.

"I have a leak in my bathroom, and my guy won't come take a look at it till tomorrow morning, and an emergency plumber's two hundred bucks an hour," Thirteen convincingly lies.

Meanwhile House walks into the lab where Dr. Riggin has been testing the new drug that House has been stealing to treat himself. Dr. Riggin is carrying a cardboard box. It looks like he is packing up. "Dr. House," Dr. Riggin greets House.

"Dr. Riggin," House greets back. "Figures you'd be wrapping up the trial by now. I just wanted to give you a hearty mazel tov."

"And don't forget the Nobel Prize for developing an incredibly expensive rat poison," Dr. Riggin replied.

"What do you mean," House asks. His voice a little shaky. "What happened?"

"Tumors," Riggin says. He pulls some photos out of a folder and hands it to House. "Just look at these things." The photos show a dead rat, which has been pinned down and autopsied, revealing multiple tumors. House looks at the photos and then over to the now empty cages.

"Any indication the rats were getting sick," House asks. His mind going in a hundred directions as to what this all means for him.

"Just some cramping," Riggin says. "Their legs would stiffen up. They were having trouble moving around. We just thought their bodies were adjusting to the increase in muscle mass, but within a day or so they just started dying. Oh, well, get a new compound to play with next week."

Back at the hospital, Trzaska is doing another exam on Riley. "Shane, do your wife's eyelids look any different than usual," Trzaska asks.

"Um, maybe one is drooping a little bit, but you know, she's tired, so…" Shane answers.

"Riley, can you open your mouth for me and tilt your head back," Trzaska asks. "This is gonna be a little uncomfortable." He inserts the scope into her throat. "Yeah, there's swelling, indenting the esophagus."

"Is that why she choked," Shane asks.

"We'll need to do an x-ray," Trzaska says.

"What," Riley asks. "No, the baby…you said no x-rays."

"It's important," Trzaska says. "The baby will be okay."

A short while later Wilson looks at the x-rays.

"Three centimeter mass in her right upper lobe," Wilson says.

"Maybe it's a granuloma," Trzaska says.

"There's no calcification," Wilson says.

Wilson goes to talk to Riley and Shane.

"It's small-cell lung cancer," Wilson says. "The tumor's starting to press against your esophagus. It hasn't metastasized, but it has spread to other parts of your lungs so we can't operate."

"Wait, that doesn't make sense," Shane says. "She had kidney failure and brain problems…"

"Some cancer patients get what are called paraneoplastic syndromes," Wilson starts. "You were making antibodies to fight the tumor. It attacked other cells: your brain first, then your liver, kidneys…even the nerves that control your eyelids. That's called Lambert-Eaton syndrome, it told us the tumor was in the lungs."

"How bad is it," Riley asks.

"Small-cell is the most aggressive kind of lung cancer," Wilson says. "The five-year survival rate is only about ten to fifteen percent, which is why we need to start you on chemo and radiation right away."

"Not radiation, what about the baby," Riley says with great concern.

"You'll need a C-section before you can start the treatment," Wilson says. "I can get you in first thing tomorrow morning."

"What are the chances my baby will survive," Riley asks.

"Pretty good," Wilson says. "Twenty-eight weeks, so about eighty percent."

"No, wait, that's one in five chance he'll die," Riley says.

"I really wouldn't advise waiting," Wilson says.

"Riley, you've got to start this treatment right away…" Shane says.

"What happens if I wait," Riley asks.

"Twenty-nine weeks, survival rate is closer to ninety percent," Wilson says.

"I'm not doing the radiation," Riley says.

"You'll die…" Shane says.

"Listen, you know the chances, they're nothing, but a few more weeks will save the baby," Riley says.

"Listen, you're depressed right now, and you're not thinking right," Shane says.

"Sweetie…" Riley starts.

Shane interrupts and looks at Wilson. "Could you just, tell her, please?"

"This cancer moves quick," Wilson says. "The median survival's two to four months. If you postpone, even for a week…"

"I'm sorry, honey," Riley says. Shane looks upset.

Wilson finds Trzaska sitting at the table in the ddx room. Trzaska has symptoms on the whiteboard and medical texts spread out on the table.

"Riley is refusing to have the C-section," Wilson says. "Her odds aren't good enough."

"They do suck," Trzaska says rubbing his forehead. "Where's House, he lives for this kind of case."

"Paged him twice," Wilson responds.

"Guess we're on our own then," Trzaska says thinking. "She does this, she knows she's gonna die."

"She's saving her child," Wilson says.

"You think this woman is making a rational decision," Trzaska asks.

"I think people can overcome their baser drives," Wilson says. "As I understand it you're a pretty rational person like House, but you have to understand, emotional decisions aren't rational. I've been around House long enough to agree that the average person is selfish, but sometimes people can do the right thing."

"You're saying she's making the right call," Trzaska asks.

"I'm saying it's her choice," Wilson replies.

Trzaska is quiet for a moment thinking. "The hospital's chock full trials…there's got to be something for small-cell lung cancer."

Wilson nods. "I'll make some calls."

"Thanks," Trzaska says.


	14. After Hours Part 2

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy

**A/N: Told you the new chapters would be coming quickly. How is everyone liking all the chaos? How is Trzaska doing with his first solo case?**

* * *

><p>Meanwhile Thirteen opens her apartment door to Chase.<p>

"One portable ultrasound, extra pepperoni," Chase jokes.

Thirteen takes the machine. "Thank you so much. I might be late tomorrow." She starts to close the door, but Chase puts his hand out to open it again.

"Your socks are dry," Chase says. "And, unfortunately, so is your shirt, which means you either just changed to greet me, or you need this for something medical." Thirteen hesitates, and doesn't answer him.

"I am a doctor," Chase says.

Thirteen lets him in her apartment. Chase enters the living room and stops when he sees Darrien lying on the couch. A look of shock crosses Chase's face. "She's my friend," Thirteen says. "I was in prison."

A little while later House is sitting on a CT table in his underwear slapping at his arm to expose a vein. A monitor reveals that his heart rate is 110 bpm. He inserts an IV needle, lies down and pushes the button, which slides the table into the CT machine. Once inside, he pushes another button, which starts the scan. After the scan House sits slumped on the CT table as he waits for the scan to process. A short time later House begins looking at the film. There are multiple black spots seen in the scan of his leg. He slowly lowers the film and looks devastated.

Meanwhile at Thirteen's apartment, Chase is pacing as Thirteen uses the ultrasound machine on Darrien's chest.

"You killed your own brother," Chase says putting the pieces together.

"Yes, it was awful and devastating, but it wasn't murder," Thirteen defends. "He was sick and he wanted to die, and I promised I would help. Now please stop pacing and help me find this thing."

"Have you talked to anybody about it," Chase asks. "I mean, are you okay?"

"No, I may have an aortic arch aneurysm," Thirteen says. "Oh, wait, that's her. Either help me or leave."

Chase puts down the drink can he was holding and takes off his jacket.

"Having trouble getting a clear look," Thirteen says.

"Try a long axis view from the suprasternal notch," Chase suggests. He comes over beside Thirteen and prepares to examine Darrien's wound.

"Wait," Thirteen shouts stopping Chase in his movement. "Put on some gloves. She's got Hep-C."

"Wonderful," Chase says. He puts on a pair of latex gloves. "Take it you two were cell mates."

"Just friends," Darrien says.

"She saved me," Thirteen says. "There's a culture in prison. If you don't have someone to show you how to get the stuff you need and stay away from the stuff you don't, you're screwed."

"Her fingers are turning blue," Chase says. He looks at Darrien. "Can you move those?" Chase looks more closely at Darrien's left hand.

"My arm's starting to go numb," Darrien says.

"Arch of aorta's clear," Thirteen says. "This can't be an aneurysm."

"Maybe the wound threw a clot," Chase says. "Check axillary arteries." Chase raises Darrien's left arm above her head, and Thirteen moves the ultrasound wand up to Darrien's left armpit. "Stop." He points to a spot on the monitor. "Right there." Chase starts digging around in a duffle full of medical paraphernalia.

"Five centimeter gooey mass," Thirteen says. "Not a clot. Maybe a lipoma?"

"What the hell is that," Darrien asks.

"Fat-filled sack," Chase says. "Probably aggravated by the stab wound." He's still rummaging. "You got any syringes in here?"

"Give me that," Thirteen says to Chase. Chase gives the duffle bag to Thirteen, then takes hold of the ultrasound wand as Thirteen searches through the bag for a syringe.

"I was stabbed in my gut, not in my arm," Darrien says confused.

"You lost a lot of blood," Thirteen says. "Gave the lipoma room to swell. It's compressing the arteries in your arm, blocking your blood flow. Maybe we can suck some of it out. You'll be fine." Thirteen has pulled a syringe out of the bag and pulled off the paper wrapping. She now prepares to insert the syringe into Darrien's armpit. Thirteen inserts the needle. "Little pinch."

Chase watches as Thirteen slowly pulls out the plunger. "That's not a lipoma."

Meanwhile at a strip club, upbeat dance music is playing and a couple of pretty young woman are pole dancing. Taub is at the end of the stage sipping on a drink through a straw. He is not watching the dancers. "I don't know why she's even considering having my kid.," Taub says. "She barely knows me. All she knows is I'm a short, balding guy. It doesn't even make evolutionary sense."

Foreman looks over at Taub for a second and then returns his attention to the dancers on the stage. "You want her to keep it," Foreman asks.

"No," Taub says.

"'Cause you'd make a crappy dad," Foreman says.

"I said, no," Taub says.

"You're too selfish," Foreman says. "That's why you cheated on your wife, why your marriage fell apart…"

"Dude, I said…" Taub starts.

"I know you," Foreman says. "The only reason you're sitting in a strip club, ignoring the strip club, is because you actually are considering it."

Taub doesn't know what to say to that. Instead, he pulls out a folded wad of cash and holds it up for the strippers. "Although without crappy dads in the world…" Taub says. One of the strippers rubs Taub's shoulder and pulls him up off his stool. Foreman just shakes his head in disbelief.

Back at the hospital Trzaska is talking to Dr. Prather, the oncologist running the trial. "We've sequenced the DNA of the tumor cells," Trzaska says. "P53 gene mutation at codon 55. She's perfect for your trial."

"She's pretty far advanced," Prather says looking at the slide.

"Well, you want easy cases, you picked the wrong specialty," Trzaska says.

"Otherwise in good health," Prather asks.

"Excellent," Trzaska replies.

"When can she start," Prather asks.

"Middle of next week," Trzaska responds.

"Cancer's already stage three, it'd be a waste of time," Prather says.

"She can start in two days," Trzaska says smiling.

Trzaska meets up with Wilson who spoke with Prather on the phone after Trzaska left. They walk down a hallway together talking.

"She can't start in two days! She's pregnant," Wilson says.

"She won't be in two days," Trzaska says. "I've scheduled a C-section."

"She'd still have to wait a month," Wilson says. "You can't take part in a trial until 30 days after major surgery."

"Well, it's definitely surgery, but major," Trzaska asks.

"You're scamming a doctor, now," Wilson asks. "You've only been here for a few months and already you're acting like House. There's more to this job than that. There's more to life than that." Wilson's tone becomes slightly angry and scolding.

"But House gets things done doesn't he," Trzaska asks. "He saves lives. That's what I care about. Not stupid regulations."

"These regulations aren't just here to annoy you, okay," Wilson responds back, now lecturing Trzaska. "Doing this is dangerous to the patient."

"Well, I'll be sure to let her know that," Trzaska says. "Care to join me?"

Wilson stops in the hall while Trzaska continues to Riley's room.

"Angiogenesis inhibitors prevent the tumors from creating blood vessels," Trzaska starts. "Without blood, the tumor starves."

"That sounds great…" Shane says.

"What about the baby," Riley asks.

"The treatment would be fatal to the baby," Trzaska says bluntly. "I've scheduled a C-section for later this afternoon. It's in the trial phase right now, but so far complete remission in more than thirty percent of subjects."

"I told Dr. Wilson I didn't want a C-section," Riley says.

"When your chances of living were less than a third of what they are now," Trzaska says.

"Well, the baby's premature, that…" Riley starts.

"Our pediatrics department has the best neonatal ICU in the state," Trzaska interrupts.

"No, his lungs, his brain, he's not ready," Riley says.

"And he could be fine," Shane says.

"You don't know what it's like, raising a sick child," Riley yells at Shane. Trzaska looks up, interested.

"His odds are much better than yours are," Shane says. "You have to let them at least try this." He looks at Trzaska. "Talk to her."

"Okay," Trzaska says. "Leave the room." Shane does what Trzaska asks. "How long have you been taking oxybutynin?"

"Uh, since I was about twenty," Riley responds.

"Incontinence is pretty uncommon in a woman of your age," Trzaska says. "It's even more bizarre in a woman in her twenties."

"I guess I haven't had the best luck when it comes to my health," Riley says looking away from Trzaska.

"Seems that way," Trzaska says. "You said to your husband, 'You don't know what it's like, raising a sick child.' You didn't say, 'You don't know what it would be like.' This is not your first child, is it? And he doesn't know."

"I was eighteen," Riley answers. "Got pregnant, got married. I had the most beautiful little girl, Grace. She had infantile Alexander's disease."

"I'm sorry," Trzaska says.

"For two years we watched her die," Riley says, her voice shaking. "My husband was, uh, my first husband was a, a great guy, but after that I couldn't even look at him without thinking of her. I left him, I left my job, I left everything …"

"Very moving story," Trzaska says. "Explains why you're being so selfish."

"I'm willing to die to protect my husband," Riley says.

"Because it's what you want," Trzaska responds. "Your husband wants you to live."

"Well, he doesn't understand…" Riley starts.

"Oh, who the hell does," Trzaska says angrily. "Tragedies happen. You think that turning yourself into a disposable incubator for a few weeks is going to protect your baby from all the crap in this world, go ahead, die happy. I got no problems with people killing themselves, but don't think it makes you a hero."

Riley starts crying from Trzaska's rant. "Okay."

"You're scheduled for four p.m.," Trzaska says leaving.

Meanwhile, Thirteen pulls a full syringe of blood out of Darrien's armpit. "Try moving your fingers again."

Darrien wiggles the fingers of her left hand as Thirteen caps the syringe.

"Good," Thirteen says. "Means it's almost drained." Thirteen puts the full syringe down beside four other syringes full of blood.

Chase pulls on a fresh pair of latex gloves. "Not good enough. We don't know if it's gonna come back. We don't even know what it is. Drugs, viruses, toxins from that crack house and God knows where else she's been."

"If this were caused by the drugs, she'd have kidney failure, cardiac involvement," Thirteen says.

"What about her Hep-C," Chase asks. "Could have fried her liver. Loses its synthetic function." Chase comes over and sits down beside Thirteen in front of the couch where Darrien is lying.

"Then her entire body would be swelling, not just her arm," Thirteen says.

"That leaves us with toxins," Chase says. He looks over at Darrien. "Where exactly were you when you were attacked?"

"You're not doing a home search in a crack den, that's insane," Thirteen says.

"Apparently, we don't have much of a choice," Chase says.

"It's a crime scene," Thirteen says. "And it's not toxins or viruses or anything else you mentioned, because it's not a coincidence. Her symptoms have to be related to the stabbing."

Chase is on his feet again, pacing.

"What if her body used up all the clotting factors dealing with the stab wound," Thirteen suggests.

"Explains the bloody mass," Chase says. "But if you're right, she could start bleeding anywhere, like in her brain or in her heart."

"One of those things could start growing in my brain," Darrien asks.

"It's time to get you to the hospital," Chase says.

"Oh, no," Darrien says. She looks at Thirteen. "Remy, you promised."

Thirteen looks up at Chase. "All we'll do at the hospital is stick her in a patient bed and give her IV clotting factor. We can do that right here."

"We could also embalm her right here," Chase says sarcastically.

"I'll call the drugs in," Thirteen says. "You go pick them up. If I'm right, she'll be fine. Look, I know you don't know her and you don't care about her, but I do. Please."

Meanwhile at the hospital, Dr. Lim is getting ready for the surgery in the OR, but a nurse has a phone up to his ear.

"Yes, this is Dr. Lim," he says into the receiver.

The nurses are talking about various happenings, and the anesthesiologist begins to put Riley under. "Count down from ten," the anesthesiologist says.

"Okay," Riley says nodding. "Ten… nine… eight…"

"That seemed kind of fast, is she all right," Shane asks concerned.

"She's fine," the anesthesiologist says.

"Wake her up," Dr. Lim says. "That was Cuddy; surgery's off."

The anesthesiologist wakes Riley up and she is transported back to her room.

Trzaska knocks on Cuddy's door. She is packing her things after working late and answers him. "Come in."

Trzaska barges in and closes the door behind him. Turning around, his face is angry. "What's the idea pulling my patient out of surgery?"

"When I asked you to work emergency tonight I wanted you to treat everyone that came in, not pick one case and treat only her," Cuddy replies shoving a notebook into her soft briefcase.

"I have been treating multiple cases," Trzaska says. "And you haven't answered my question!"

"Because you were trying to ram her into a drug trial five minutes after surgery," Cuddy says.

"She knows the risk, she was fully informed," Trzaska shouts.

"Well the guy running the study sure wasn't," Cuddy says back.

"Not his life! Not his call," Trzaska says his voice still getting louder. People outside Cuddy's office are wondering what's going on.

"His study, his call," Cuddy says back. Her voice intensifying but still calm.

"Right so she kicks off his numbers look bad," Trzaska says annoyed.

"The numbers look bad the study looks bad," Cuddy insists.

"Which would cost you money," Trzaska says still annoyed.

"And keep a potentially life-saving protocol off the market," Cuddy says back.

"Oh to hell with that, she's being condemned to death for some stupid rule," Trzaska says.

"Listen to yourself," Cuddy finally shouts at him, stepping around her desk and in front of Trzaska. "Sit down," she says pushing his shoulders down, forcing him to sit on the couch. "Wilson's right."

"I already had one lecture today, I can't stand another," Trzaska says standing up.

"I wasn't finished," Cuddy's tone was harsh this time, her voice leaving no room for argument. "House has a lot of good qualities, and he saves a lot of lives that would otherwise be lost. But he doesn't have your compassion." She sits down and places a hand on his knee. "Never forget that. You can be as great as he is, without being the ass he is. House reminds me every day that there are stupid rules. But there are some that have a good reason. Try and remember that."

Trzaska nods and leaves Cuddy's office. His leg bothering him a little, he pops two of his tramadol. And limps up to talk to Riley and Shane.

A little later House is on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor, and the tub. After he's finished House stares at himself in the mirror, then looks down to a collection of surgical instruments laid out on a table. Next to it a line of syringes, then a bottle of Vicodin alongside a shaving brush in a glass sitting on the sink. House picks up the bottle of pills and takes four, washing it down with a handful of water, and putting the bottle back on the sink. He then proceeds to scrub his hands and forearms thoroughly. There is a small table next to the tub, covered in surgical draping. The surgical instruments are laid out neatly on the table. There are two flexible arm lamps clamped to the table, one of them is a magnifying lamp. House is wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. The scar on his right thigh clearly visible. House continues with his preparations. He tapes the CT film onto the wall tile of the bathtub. The patient information includes his name, DOB (5/15/1959), gender, and his doctor (Hourani). He places a stack of medical books on the right side at the foot of the bathtub. House now sits on the edge of the tub. He has a wooden spoon in his mouth and is preparing a tourniquet out of the tube of a bicycle tire. House wraps the tourniquet around his upper right thigh above the scar, then takes the spoon out of his mouth and twists it into the tourniquet to make it tighter. He grimaces as it tightens. Behind him, is a rolled up bath towel which he has taped to the wall beside the CT scan. House rises unsteadily, his hand on his upper thigh. He looks to a row of seven full syringes. On either side of the syringes are some gauze bandage and his cell phone. House lowers himself carefully into the tub and places his right foot against the stack of books. On the instrument table is a portable cauterizing instrument, forceps, retractors, the syringes, and House's cell phone. House looks at the CT film and pans down the scan, to reveal three tumors in House's upper thigh, each circled in red. The largest tumor is high up, and close to the scar tissue. Two smaller tumors, situated close together, look to be an inch or two below the large one. House puts on latex gloves and sterilizes his thigh. He puts the sterilization sponge into a small metal bowl, then picks up one of a series of ten syringes which are laid out on the table. He takes off the cap, tossing it onto the floor, and with another glance at the CT scan, plunges the needle into his thigh. After pushing the anesthetic into his leg, he tosses the used syringe onto the floor and repeats the procedure with another syringe. He uses up five of the syringes, pushing the anesthetic all up and down his thigh, as indicated by the CT scan. He stops and uses his thumbs to assess the numbness of his thigh. He looks up with a determined expression, as if steeling himself for what he is about to do. House picks up a scalpel from the table and removes the cover. He holds it over his thigh and pauses for a long moment, bracing himself. He then takes a deep breath and makes a long incision in his upper thigh.

Meanwhile back at Thirteen's apartment, she is getting Darrien situated on her bed. "Lie down, elevate your shoulder," Thirteen tells her. Darrien groans as Thirteen positions her on the bed, then sits on the bed beside her. "You said Andre wasn't responsible for the drugs. What is?"

"Oh, I don't know," Darrien says blowing it off.

"Yes, you do," Thirteen says really trying to help. "What happened to you? If you don't deal with the real problem…"

"I came here because you're a doctor… not a shrink," Darrien says. Darrien turns away from Thirteen who finally gets up and leaves.

Back at House's, he is in his bathtub concentrating hard and clearly in pain. He has used retractors to spread open the incision, and is using the magnifying lamp to work on his leg with a pair of forceps. His hand is shaking and he is sweating. He wipes the sweat on the rolled up towel on the wall and turns back to his leg. He has located a tumor. He grits his teeth, but is shaking with pain and cannot get ahold of it. He picks up another syringe, and glancing at the CT scan pushes the anesthetic into his leg. The wound is bleeding heavily. He uses the portable cauterizer to seal off some blood vessels. His toes flex against the stack of books. Taking up the scalpel again and grimacing in extreme pain, he cuts the tumor away from the tissue in his leg. Using the forceps, he manages to extract the tumor from his thigh. With a shaking hand, he deposits the tumor into a small metal bowl on the table. House looks at the CT scan again. He wipes his forehead on the towel and prepares to excise a second tumor. His hand is shaking so badly that he can barely see what he is doing. "Ugh!" As the scalpel touches the tissue, he screams, and throws back his head in agony. He shakes his head and groans as he tries to continue with the surgery. "Ah! Ugh! Ugh!" House grunts and yells as the pain finally gets the better of him and he tosses the scalpel aside. Whimpering with pain and frustration, he pounds the edge of the bathtub with his fist. He shoves the magnifying lamp out of the way and sits there gasping and clenching his fist. House slowly picks up his phone and scrolls through his phonebook with shaky hands.

Wilson is asleep in bed at his apartment. His cell phone is on the nightstand next to the bed. It vibrates multiple times and a picture of House pops up on the screen, Wilson stirs in his sleep, but does not wake up.

At the strip club Taub is now paying close attention to the dancer. "Your lap is vibrating," the stripper says moving away from his lap and slowing down her dancing.

"Oh, sorry," Taub says. He takes his phone out of his pocket to see who is calling. "Uh, it's my boss." He puts the phone back in his pocket. "Probably drunk. Wants a ride home. He can take a cab. Do you have any kids?"

"Why? You like moms," the stripper asks as she continues to dance for him. "I could be your mommy. Spank your little ass." She grabs hold of Taub's tie and twists it. He looks embarrassed.

"Mmm, uh, no," Taub responds. "I…what would you do if you got pregnant? Not by me… at all, but by some hypothetical guy who didn't want to keep the hypothetical kid. What would be the least awful way for him to tell you that?"

"Don't talk," the stripper says. "Just let mama dance for you."

"Should I send flowers," Taub asks. "Maybe write the clinic appointment on the little card? Surprise! I hate myself." He sighs. "There's just no good way to…" he trails off noticing a mole on her lower back. He reaches out and touches it. "How long have you had this mole," he asks. "It's asymmetrical."

The stripper slaps his hand away. "No touching."

"Sorry," Taub replies. "Have you been to see a dermatologist?" He fidgets for a second and unable to help himself he reaches out again.

The stripper slaps at him and calls to the bouncer, who comes right over. "Bobby!"

Taub looks at Bobby as he enters the room. "Oh, uh…I wasn't touching her," Taub stammers. "I was just…oh, God." Bobby grabs Taub by the lapels and practically picks him up off the chair. "Oh!"


	15. After Hours Part 3

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy

* * *

><p>Meanwhile at Thirteen's apartment, Darrien is asleep in Thirteen's bed. She rolls over when Thirteen's phone vibrates on the nightstand. She reaches for it, then realizing that it is not her phone, rolls over to go back to sleep. But as she does, she sees a man standing at the foot of the bed. She rises up in bed and shakes her head. "No," she says to the man standing there. He pulls a gun. "No, please don't. Please, please… put the gun down."<p>

Thirteen is cleaning up the couch in the living room. She sighs when she sees a large blood stain.

Back in the bedroom, the man cocks the gun and aims it at Darrien. The man is very young, wearing a hooded sweatshirt.

"Put it down on the ground and get away," Darrien shouts loudly enough for Thirteen to hear from the other room.

Thirteen starts for the bedroom. There is a gunshot, and a bullet hole appears in the man's forehead. He falls with a thud. Thirteen rushes into the bedroom. "Dee," Thirteen shouts concerned.

Darrien is sitting up in bed, still talking to the man at the foot of the bed, except there is no one there. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm sorry." Darrien starts to sob. "I'm sorry."

"Dee, what is it," Thirteen asks, a hint of panic in her voice.

"I'm so sorry," Darrien repeats. Thirteen sits on the bed and hugs Darrien, who is now crying. "I'm sorry!"

Back to House's apartment. He has given up on the surgery, is breathing fast and hard, and is in extreme pain. He takes off the bloody latex gloves, and shaking badly, punches a number into his cell phone.

Another cell phone vibrates. This time it is Cuddy's phone. She wakes and reaches for her phone. The clock on the nightstand reads 11:46pm. She hears voices, and finds Rachel sitting at the bottom of her bed, watching TV. She sits up in bed. "Why aren't you in your bed," she sleepily asks Rachel.

Rachel is watching an obviously adult, pirate cartoon. The cartoon depicts a very voluptuous and scantily clad cartoon woman, walking the plank of a pirate ship. The pirate is on the plank also, and there are alligators in the water below the plank. "Jibber me jabbers," says Brownbeard the pirate on the TV. "I'll give ye splinters in yer arse, ye mangy bilge rat."

Cuddy opens her eyes wider not believing what she is seeing. "What are you watching?"

"TV, you bloody scallywag," Rachel replies.

Cuddy uses the remote to turn off the TV.

"Mo-om," Rachel whines.

Cuddy finally looks at her phone and answers it. "Someone better be dying," she says into the phone.

Back at Thirteen's apartment, the front door closes and Chase enters just as Thirteen is coming into the living room from the bedroom.

"She hallucinated," Thirteen says. "I need you to go back out." Chase hands her the medicine he just got. "I just called in more clotting factor."

"So she's bleeding in her brain now," Chase says.

"We double up the dose, she'll be fine," Thirteen says.

"No," Chase says. "We bring her to the hospital, we do a CT scan to locate the bleed, drill a burr hole in her skull, and maybe she'll be fine."

"We can drill a burr hole here," Thirteen says nodding her head trying to convince herself.

"You're not just risking our careers here," Chase says. "You could go back to prison."

"I made a promise," Thirteen defends.

"You made a promise," Chase asks looking for further explanation.

"I will not take her to the hospital," Thirteen replies.

"Great," Chase says throwing his hands up. "Then I will." He moves toward the bedroom door, but Thirteen blocks his way.

"No," Thirteen says.

"I'm gonna move you, and then I'm gonna pick your friend up, carry her down to my car, take her to the hospital, and try to save her life," Chase says firmly.

"She's staying here," Thirteen says trying to end the conversation.

"Move," Chase says forcefully.

Thirteen does not move and shakes her head in defiance.

"Move," Chase repeats, loudly this time. He shoves Thirteen aside, but she recovers her balance and pulling Chase away from the bedroom door, starts punching him in the chest, grunting with the effort. She finally lands a punch to his jaw, which causes him to go down. He gets up just as she attempts to hit him again. He blocks the punch and grabbing her by the neck and upper arms, shoves her roughly to the floor.

"She's going to the hospital," Chase says shakily looking down at Thirteen. He's shaking a little from the confrontation. They are both breathing hard. Thirteen looks up at him defeated. Chase walks into the bedroom a look of determined regret on his face.

Meanwhile at the hospital Trzaska is talking to Riley and Shane again. "If we had the C-section anyway, we could still do the experimental treatment, right," Shane asks. "We'd just have to wait thirty days."

"Assuming the doctor running the trial isn't too pissed off to let her in, yeah," Trzaska says. His tone is humble and a little defeated.

Riley looks at Trzaska. "And assuming I'm even healthy enough to…" She gasps, grabs Shane, and the monitors all start to beep.

"Honey? Are you okay," Shane asks.

"Stats are dropping," Trzaska says limping to Riley's side. "Down to the 80s. Stay with us, Riley."

"What's going on," Shane asks.

"We need you to leave the room," Trzaska says to Shane as nurses start running in.

"Respiratory distress," Trzaska says to one of the nurses.

"Could you just tell me what's going on," Shane says panicking.

"We're trying to find out," Trzaska replies. Shane is escorted from the room. Trzaska starts doing a quick ultrasound on the baby and Riley's lungs, while one of the nurses looks down Riley's airway.

"Still kicking," Trzaska says.

"Flash pulmonary edema," the nurse says.

"Lungs are clear," Trzaska reports. "There it is pulmonary embolus. Get her to an O.R."

Trzaska, the nurses, and techs start wheeling Riley's bed to the O.R. "Shane is rushing after them."

"What happened," Shane asks.

"Page Dr. Wilson to the O.R.," Trzaska says breaking off from the group to talk to Shane. "It's an embolism, a blood clot. It's fairly common with lung cancer. It's not a full saddle embolism, so blood's still trickling through. We've been able to get Riley breathing a little, but we need to remove the clot, and we need you to approve the treatment."

"Yeah, whatever you have to do, just do it," Shane says.

"It's not that simple," Trzaska says. "The best course for the baby would be an immediate C-section. The longer we postpone, the greater chance it'll have brain damage from lack of oxygen."

"Fine, whatever, just do it," Shane says now completely panicked.

"Here's the problem," Trzaska says. "The C-section would be very, very dangerous for Riley."

"Dangerous, like…" Shane trails off, hoping Trzaska doesn't mean death.

"In her current condition, there's a real chance she wouldn't survive," Trzaska says. "I'm sorry." He pauses giving Shane a chance to think about what he said. "Look, your wife's unconscious, we need you to make a decision."

"I just want her to live," Shane says. "No C-section."

Trzaska nods and runs to the O.R., leaving Shane standing in the hallway.

Back to House's apartment, he is still sitting in the bloody bathtub. Footsteps are heard, and Cuddy appears in the doorway. Taking in the gory scene, she leans down to stop Rachel before she sees the bloody mess. "Sweetie… go wait for mommy by the couch, okay," Cuddy says to Rachel. "Go on." Rachel obeys her and leaves.

House is sweating and shaking. His eyes are red and he has his arms wrapped around himself as if he is cold. "I tried calling everyone else," House says shakily. "You were the last one on the list."

Cuddy looks around the bathroom floor,seeing a bloody towel and numerous empty syringes. "Any reason why 911 wasn't on the list?"

"It's not an emergency," House rebuts.

"Right," Cuddy says. She kneels on the floor next to the tub. "Are you suicidal?"

House gasps from pain. "I'm not attempting bypass surgery. The tumors are small and they're close to the surface. I thought it'd be like…removing a wart."

"You couldn't wait till morning; bring your CT scans to an actual surgeon," Cuddy asks.

"Surgeons are idiots," House responds. "They'd just hack away at the muscle until they get worn out."

"Or you're just ashamed you've been injecting a drug that hasn't even gone through safety trials," Cuddy says. "It's never even been in the human body."

"I got one of the tumors," House says ignoring Cuddy's scolding. "The second one is close." He nods at the scan on the wall. "You can use the CT to help you find the third."

Cuddy gets up off the floor. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

House pleads with her. "Just…just excise the tumor."

"Absolutely not," Cuddy yells at him.

Meanwhile a car is racing through the night. Chase is driving fast and dodging around other cars as he and Thirteen rush Darrien to the hospital. Cars honk as he cuts them off. Thirteen sits in the back seat with Darrien. "Elevate her head more," Chase says to Thirteen glancing back.

"Don't bother," Darrien says. "Cops are gonna be waiting at the front door."

"I'll go in first," Chase says. "I'll find a patient on life support just waiting to die. We'll use their name on all your tests. No one will ever know you're there."

"Thanks," Darrien says.

Meanwhile Cuddy's car is also on the way to the hospital. House is lying in the back seat, wearing a sweatshirt and wrapped in a blanket. Rachel is in the front passenger seat. She looks back at House, "What happened to your leg?"

"I was trying to make it better," House replies.

"He was being reckless," Cuddy says to Rachel, but her sarcastic tone was meant for House. "Sit back, honey," Cuddy tells Rachel. She looks in her rearview mirror at House. "This isn't about making your leg better. It's about making your life better."

"Here we go," House says rolling his eyes. "Wish I had called 911."

"Why else would you risk your life doing something so stupid," Cuddy asks.

"Well, you know, I've had a lot of setbacks lately," House says, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

"Don't blame our breakup for this," Cuddy responds. "You're not unhappy because of me. You're just unhappy. Unhappy people do reckless things."

Back in Chase's car, Thirteen is trying to keep Darrien awake.

"Darrien," Thirteen yells.

Darrien wakes with a gasp. "Stop screaming. My head hurts."

"I need you to stay awake," Thirteen says. "Talk to me."

"About what," Darrien asks.

"When you were screaming in my room, what did you think you saw," Thirteen asks. "You said, 'put it down on the ground and get away.'"

"Sounds like a cop," Chase says while dodging through traffic.

"Old habits, I guess," Darrien replies

"You were a cop," Thirteen asks.

"Back when I was a decent person," Darrien says.

"How do I not know this," Thirteen asks. "You knew everything…"

"Not a good resume when you're trying to survive in prison," Darrien says.

"So who were you talking to in my bedroom," Thirteen asks. "Why did you keep apologizing?"

"'Cause I'm sorry," Darrien says staring out at nothing.

"For what," Thirteen asks.

"I killed a kid," Darrien says. "He was 19. I went in first. Saw him going for his gun. I tried to talk him down, but…" she chuckles, "They told me I was a hero."

"So that's when you started using drugs," Thirteen says. "I'm sorry."

Darrien closes her eyes.

"Darrien," Thirteen calls her name trying to wake her back up. "Darrien!" She looks up at Chase. "She lost consciousness."

Chase drives faster, speeding through an intersection where Cuddy's car sits, waiting for the light to change. She doesn't recognize Chase's car and she sits with her left turn signal blinking, looking left and right.

"There are no cars coming," House says crankily from the back seat. "Just go."

"The light is red, ye bloody scallywag," Rachel says back to House.

"Stop with the pirate talk," Cuddy says irritated.

House responds to Rachel imitating the pirate Brownbeard from the cartoon. "If you don't want Brownbeard to end up with two wooden legs, better get yer ma to move this ship, you mangy bilge rat."

Rachel giggles and looks back at House.

Cuddy nods. "Of course…you showed her that filthy cartoon. What kind of idiot lets a three-year-old watch that?"

"If you want to lecture me on my poor judgment, there would seem to be more relevant examples," House retorts.

Back at the hospital in the OR, Riley is put under for surgery. "Stats are still way down," Trzaska says. "We've got to push the streptokinase."

"Too risky," Dr. Lim says. "Even if it dissolves the clot, she could still bleed out anyway."

"She's hemodynamically compromised," Trzaska says.

"It's not good for the baby," Lim argues back.

"Dad doesn't care," Trzaska replies.

Lim nods to one of the nurses who inserts a needle into the IV line. "Embolcine 250,000 units." The monitors start to beep.

"BP's dropping. Pressers," Lim shouts to one of the nurses.

"We don't have time," Trzaska says. "We've gotta suck it out."

"Systolic BP's 80," one of the nurses shouts. Trzaska gets the clot out. "BP's stabilizing, O2 stats rising." Wilson enters the OR gloved up and wearing a surgical mask.

"Did you get the clot," Wilson asks.

"I think so," Trzaska replies. "She's stabilized."

"How long was her oxygen at that level," Wilson asks.

"Ten minutes," one of the nurses replies.

"Brain function compromised," Wilson asks. The monitors go off again.

"BP's dropping," one of the nurses says.

"Up the dopamine," Trzaska says.

"She's not responding," the nurse says. "How much?"

"She's up to 30 micrograms," one of the other nurses says.

"Is she septic," Wilson asks. He lifts the robe on her stomach to reveal an expanding purplish bruise. "She's bleeding into her abdomen."

"We won't be able to stop it," Lim says. He looks at Wilson.

"I'll go talk to the husband," Wilson says.

"No," Trzaska says. "I'll do it." Trzaska pulls his gloves off and starts limping out of the OR "Keep her as stable as you can for as long as you can." He leaves the OR to find Shane pacing outside of it. "She had trauma during the procedure. She's bleeding into her abdomen. There's nothing we can do; I'm sorry."

"Um, no," Shane says in denial.

"I need you to okay the C-section," Trzaska says.

"Yeah, that's gonna kill her, right," Shane asks.

"It probably will," Trzaska says flatly.

"I can't do that," Shane says shaking his head and biting his nail.

"She's dying either way," Trzaska says.

Shane drops his coffee cup. "I'm sorry, I'm…"

Trzaska grabs his arms. "Stay with me, Shane. I need your okay on this."

"She makes the decisions, and I'm…" Shane starts babbling.

"And that's gonna be tough from now on, but this decision is easy," Trzaska says firmly. "You know what she'd want."

"I can't do it," Shane says his voice cracking.

"You make this call, only two things change," Trzaska says. "A: you feel guilty for killing your wife and B: your baby lives. Riley's baby lives. A piece of her can always be with you."

Shane is now sobbing. "Okay, okay." Trzaska reenters the OR, Shane sits in one of the chairs outside of it.

Meanwhile Taub is standing in front of the strip club. The door opens, and Foreman comes out into the night. "There you are," Foreman says. "You were in the VIP room so long, I thought you were gonna pay off that girl's mortgage."

"I got tossed out by Bobby the bouncer," Taub says.

"You touched her," Foreman says chuckling.

"I was looking at her mole," Taub responds irritated.

Foreman is still chuckling. "Genius. Let's go home."

"I want to wait for the girl, make sure that mole's okay," Taub says not looking at Foreman.

"Bobby the bouncer sees you standing out here like a stalker, he's gonna break open your skull," Foreman replies.

"It was asymmetrical," Taub argues. "It might be cancerous."

"You want to get your skull cracked open," Foreman states actually concerned now. "You're trying to punish yourself."

"I want to fulfill my oath as a doctor," Taub continues to argue.

"You think you're a screw-up because you got a girl pregnant and you deserve to suffer," Foreman continues not backing down. "You don't. You just need some sleep and you'll handle this mess. Let's get in the car."

"She's probably off work soon," Taub says staring at the door.

Foreman zips up his jacket. "Give me the keys. I'll drive."

Taub ignores him

"Fine, I'll get a cab," Foreman says sighing. "Good luck with everything." He walks away from where Taub is standing and grabs a cab heading home.

Meanwhile Thirteen and Chase are now at PPTH. They are in the radiology department scanning Darrien's head.

"You were defending your friend beyond all rationality, granting her the right to die in your bedroom," Chase says to Thirteen. "Was it really all because of a promise?"

"That word means something to some people," Thirteen responds.

"Not that much," Chase replies.

Thirteen looks at the monitor as the scan runs. "I don't see the bleed. I'm moving down to the brain stem."

"You promised your brother you'd euthanize him and you think you won't feel bad about it as long as you can blame it on the promise," Chase says finally understanding. "That's why you have this twisted obligation to keep all promises… or your carefully constructed defense mechanism could crumble down."

Thirteen looks at Chase trying to hold back tears. "I saved my brother from a lot of pain." She looks back at the monitor. "Reconstructed image is clear. There's no bleed in Darrien's brain."

"Image just blurred," Chase says. "Did she wake up?"

"She's shivering," Thirteen states. "She must have a fever."

"Infection," Chase says unbelievably.

"It couldn't be from the stabbing," Thirteen says.

"It has to be from the stabbing," Chase replies.

"No, it couldn't be acting that quickly," Thirteen retorts.

"Well, then what's wrong with her," Chase asks.


	16. After Hours Part 4

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy

* * *

><p>Meanwhile House, Cuddy, and Rachel, are also at the hospital now. House is lying on a gurney parked in a busy ER hallway. He is still wearing his sweatshirt and is wrapped in a blanket. Drying blood covers his right leg. An IV has been inserted and he is hooked up to a heart monitor. Cuddy and Rachel sit nearby. Cuddy notices that House's heart rate is 129. She goes over to the gurney and feels House's forehead. "Your heart rate's over 120," Cuddy says. "You're clammy. I think you're going into shock. Are you lightheaded?"<p>

"I'm fine," House responds. He doesn't look fine though. He is sweating and shivering. House looks at Rachel. "Did you see the new Brownbeard episode?"

"It was so funny," Rachel replies.

"No, it was so lame," House says. "Got a boat full of guy pirates and they make the girl pirate walk the plank."

"She floated," Rachel replies giggling.

"That's 'cause she had big boobies," House responds. "That's why they should have kept her."

"We've got to get you into surgery," Cuddy says. "Where is that nurse? Rachel, let's go find the nurse." Cuddy takes Rachel by the hand and walks down the hallway.

House closes his eyes. Then hearing his phone ring pulls it out of a pocket with bloody hands, checks to see who is calling, and answers the call. Though in pain, he is trying very hard to sound normal. "Two a.m. Nice of you to call me back."

"Chase and I are in the hospital with a patient," Thirteen says.

"You've completely run out of ideas and you're calling me to bail you out," House reasons. "I'm touched. Hit me."

Back at the strip club, Taub is now sitting in his car outside the strip club. The car is running and it is raining outside. The wipers clear the rain as he reaches toward the dashboard to activate the command system. "Command, please," the female monotone voice of the car calls out.

"Call Ruby," Taub says.

"Would you like to call Ruby on mobile," the car asks.

"No," Taub says after pausing for a second. He reaches toward the dash to deactivate the call.

Back to House still talking to Chase and Thirteen on the phone. "She on any medication… besides crack," House asks.

"She was taking Interferon in prison, so I'm guessing she's had Hep-C for at least ten years," Thirteen replies.

"Can I guess stuff too," House asks. "'Cause that's gonna make the diagnosis really easy."

"Prison infirmary isn't known for stellar record keeping," Thirteen says irritated.

"And we can't exactly ask the patient," Chase says. He looks over at Darrien who is lying in a bed behind them unconscious.

"Yeah, that would have been pre-coma," House says. "But how could you have known that it would affect her that way?"

"We didn't think we had anything mysterious until…" Chase starts.

"How about renal cancer throwing clots," House suggests, interrupting Chase.

"Urinalysis was negative," Thirteen responds.

"That's too bad," House says. "'Cause that was my one big idea."

"Really," Thirteen asks shocked.

House looks down at his leg as a fresh spot of blood appears on the blanket.

"House? House, you there," Thirteen asks.

House grimaces in pain. He reaches for his bottle of Vicodin, which is lying on the gurney, pops open the lid, spills some pills out on the bed, and dry swallows a couple. "Tell me more about the patient. What was she doing before prison?"

"She was a cop," Thirteen responds. "Shot a kid in self-defense, never got over the guilt, started taking drugs, and got busted."

"Way to bury the lead," House says. "How long ago was the shooting?"

"I'm not sure," Thirteen says. "Why?"

"Again, you assumed she's had Hep-C for ten years," House says. "Find out when she shot the kid, you'll find out when she started taking drugs, and when she actually contracted the Hep-C."

"And you think this is relevant," Chase asks.

"It's more relevant than what you got now, which is squat," House replies. Cuddy, Rachel, and a nurse come walking down the hallway toward House. "Three chicks just came into my bedroom. I got to go," he says hanging up the phone.

Meanwhile Taub is still sitting in his car in front of the strip club. He reaches toward the dash to activate the command system. "Command, please," the car says.

"Call Rachel," Taub says.

"Would you like to call Rachel on mobile," the car asks.

Taub sees the stripper exit the club. She is using an umbrella as protection against the rain. "No," Taub responds getting out of his car. He pulls his coat over his head like an umbrella and approaches the stripper. She is not pleased to see him.

She starts to back away from him. "What the hell?"

"I really am a doctor," Taub says. "I just wanted…"

"Cop another feel," the stripper says panicked. "Get away from me." She drops the umbrella and rummages in her purse.

"No, that mole," Taub starts, "I just wanted…please, don't call Bobby."

She pulls a small pistol out of her purse. Holding if firmly in both hands, she aims it directly at Taub.

Taub holds up his hands in submission. "Just calm down."

The stripper is now very scared and panicked. "Shut up! Sick perv! Get down on your knees! You think I'm kidding? Turn around and get down on your knees!"

Taub does as she tells him to. "Please don't."

"I said shut up," the stripper yells.

"Please, please…" Taub whispers.

"You think you're the first guy who thought he was special," the stripper says.

"Please…" Taub pleads.

"You think you can do whatever you want," she asks. "I am not going through that again!" She cocks the gun.

"Please… Please… Please…" Taub pleads, scared to death kneeling on the ground. A car speeds out of the lot behind him, and realizing that she has left, he collapses to the ground in relief.

Back in the OR the C-section is underway.

"He's out; umbilical cord's clamped," Lim says.

"No respiration," Wilson says.

"His lungs aren't opening up," Trzaska says.

"They aren't mature," Wilson states. He and Trzaska work on the baby.

"Come on, take a breath," Trzaska says. "You know you can do it." The monitors beep. Trzaska continues to work on the baby while Wilson walks over to Riley.

"What've you got," Wilson asks.

"Looks like v-fib," Lim replies.

"Pulse," Wilson asks.

"No," Lim responds. "Paddles!" One of the nurses charges the defibrillator and hands the paddles to Lim.

Trzaska is rubbing the baby's chest. "Come on, come on."

"Clear!" Lim shouts and shocks Riley.

"Nothing," Wilson states.

"Charging," Lim says.

"Come on, open up," Trzaska says to the baby.

"How's he doing," Wilson asks Trzaska from across the room.

"He's still not breathing," Trzaska responds. "We've got to intubate." He goes to get the equipment.

"Clear!" Lim shouts and shocks Riley again. Nothing happens to Riley, but the baby starts to cry.

Trzaska rushes over to the now-breathing baby. "That's it. Yeah. Cry it out."

Later, Shane is standing by the bed of his wife. Trzaska limps in. "Your boy's doing good," Trzaska says. Shane nods, and bends over to kiss Riley.

Trzaska limps out and sits on a bench out in the ICU. He starts to bounce his cane off the floor thinking about how his night has gone. His eyes are bloodshot and they start to water. Wilson walks up and sits down next to Trzaska. Wilson doesn't say anything, just sits in silence.

Cut to Thirteen in the mostly darkened diagnostics conference room. She is surfing on a laptop, looking for information about the shooting incident Darrien told them about. Chase approaches with coffee for both of them. "Find anything," Chase asks.

"Shockingly… a punk kid getting shot pulling a gun on a cop did not make national news," Thirteen says.

Chase puts a cup down on the table beside Thirteen. "Is your neck okay," he asks noticing a bruise.

"Yeah, it's fine," Thirteen says picking up the coffee cup.

"I'll get you some ice," Chase says standing up and going over to the mini-fridge.

"I said it was fine," Thirteen replies.

"I shouldn't have grabbed you so hard," Chase says. He wraps the ice in a towel, then comes back over to Thirteen.

"You had to," Thirteen says. "You were right…about everything." She takes the ice pack from him, and holds it on her neck as she continues with her internet search.

"Oh, I got something," Thirteen says.

Chase puts down his coffee and leans in to look at the computer monitor.

"Darrien must have had a different last name then," Thirteen says. "She must have been married."

"Two thousand eight," Chase says in disbelief. "Is that possible?"

"We never actually talked about how long she'd been in," Thirteen says.

"House was right," Chase says. "She could have only had her Hep-C for a few years."

"There's no way the prison would have prescribed Interferon unless the lab showed her Hep-C to be chronic," Thirteen says.

Chase sits down beside her. "So what makes new Hep-C look like old Hep-C?"

"What if she got a parasite," Thirteen says thinking aloud. "The Hep-C made her susceptible and the parasite sped up the liver damage."

"Entamoeba," Chase says. "If they were in a parasitoma, the stab wound could have freed them, sent them coursing through her bloodstream, wreaking havoc."

"A single bag of Metronidazole," Thirteen says. "If we're right, she could wake up from the coma in a few hours."

Meanwhile Cuddy is sitting with House in pre-op. House has been cleaned up and is now in a proper bed wearing a hospital gown. House and Cuddy look at each other with expressions of many mixed emotions, including shame, anger, and disappointment. An OR nurse approaches. "They're ready for you," the nurse says.

Cuddy gets up to leave, but House stops her.

"Wait," House says. "I want you in there."

With her hand already on the door, she turns back to him. "I'm not a surgeon. There's nothing I can do."

"Well, you can make sure that…idiot butcher doesn't cut more than he needs to," House says.

Cuddy comes toward him, but not all the way to the bed. "You already signed a release. He's gonna do what he needs to do."

"Yeah, and if that involves chopping off my leg…I want to be sure that that's damn well necessary," House says sighing.

"House…" Cuddy says.

"I don't trust him," House continues. "I trust you." As the orderlies wheel House into the OR, House looks pleadingly at Cuddy, and she reluctantly follows.

Back in the hall outside ICU, Wilson and Trzaska are still sitting. Trzaska is the first one to break the silence. "That's the first patient I've lost," Trzaska says. "I mean, they've died in the ER before, but never on my watch. Just figured I was lucky." He pauses for a moment. "Guess my luck ran out."

Wilson leans forward and clasps his hands together. "It won't be the last. The kinds of cases House takes are doomed to start with, and sometimes you don't find the answer in time, and sometimes there's just no cure, kind of like this case."

"No, I could have done more," Trzaska replies shaking his head. "I could have found the answer sooner. This was my first case on my own and I blew it."

"You didn't blow it," Wilson said. "You saved that woman's baby. It's not your fault House didn't answer his phone, and without you they both would have died." Wilson paused, letting his words sink in. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Come on, I'll buy you a drink."

Trzaska looks up at Wilson. "But my shift isn't over for another couple hours.

"They'll survive without you," Wilson says.

Trzaska nods and gets up following Wilson down the hall. He passes by a window and sees Shane holding his new baby and crying. Trzaska stops and watches for a minute before Wilson comes behind him and claps him on the back, waking his mind. He and Wilson nod at each other and walk down the hall together.

In another part of the hospital, Thirteen is sitting in a chair in Darrien's hospital room. She sees that Darrien is waking up. She moves quickly to the bed and lifts Darrien's eyelid to look at her pupils. "Can you hear me," Thirteen asks.

"Yeah," Darrien replies.

"You had parasites in your liver," Thirteen says. "Probably from a dirty needle or prison…or who knows what? The stabbing made it worse…but you're gonna be okay."

Darrien smiles, an expression which changes to a frown when she tries to lift her hand off the bed. She is handcuffed to the hospital bed, and a policeman is standing in the doorway behind Thirteen.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen says. "We had to."

"I told you I couldn't go back," Darrien says. "I shouldn't have trusted you. I never liked you. I killed time with you 'cause I was locked in a cage. You were a distraction. Someone to talk to so I didn't have to think about…everything else."

"You're lashing out…I get it," Thirteen says. "But in a month, you'll thank me."

Darrien scoffs.

"Or maybe you won't," Thirteen says. "I don't know. But…I know I saved your life."

Darrien is upset as Thirteen leaves the room.

Later in ICU, House is recovering after surgery. He is still unconscious, and it is starting to get light outside. Cuddy sits on a couch in the room, with Rachel's head in her lap. She is stroking her daughter's hair.

"Is he going to be okay," Rachel asks.

"He'll be fine," Cuddy replies. "Close your eyes."

"I wish House still came over to play," Rachel says.

Cuddy tries to sound upbeat. "Well…maybe you should write him a letter." Rachel nods. "Want to do that," Cuddy asks. "Okay, let's do it."

Rachel sits up as Cuddy pulls a notebook out of her purse.

In another part of the hospital Taub approaching Ruby. "Ruby," he says looking a little frantic.

"You look like hell and you smell like…" Ruby starts to reply.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," Taub interrupts.

"Is that glitter on you," Ruby asks.

"Just hear me out," Taub says. "Back when I still had my practice, this patient came in, 50-year-old guy, wanted a tummy tuck. But when we did some prelim work, we discover that his stomach is filled with cancer. So instead of telling him that he's gonna look great at the beach, I got to tell him that he's dying."

"Were you at a strip club," Ruby asks.

"Please," Taub interrupts trying to continue what he was saying. "The weird part was I was more upset about the whole thing than he was. He actually had to calm me down. Said he had great kids, raised them right, knew that because of them, he was leaving the world a better place." He takes both her hands in his. "I thought I might die last night."

"At a strip club," Ruby asks, now very confused.

"Yes, I was at a strip club," Taub finally shouts. "And while it was happening, I kept thinking about that patient and how I wish I was like him. I want to have this baby." Ruby smiles at him and they hug.

Meanwhile Thirteen is sitting in the locker room, just staring. "Chase is standing in the locker room also. He shuts his locker.

"Darrien had to shoot that kid," Thirteen says to no one. "It was the right thing, completely justified. But it didn't matter. She destroyed her life trying to forget." Her voice breaks and she starts to cry. "I'm afraid that's what's gonna happen to me."

"You really should talk to someone," Chase says.

"I've talked to a therapist," Thirteen says now crying. "It didn't help."

"Well, maybe you should talk to someone who isn't a therapist," Chase suggests.

Thirteen looks up at Chase. "Do you really think you have any idea what it's like to live with something like this?"

Chase looks down at Thirteen. His eyes water slightly and his voice cracks but he recovers. "Let's grab a coffee." Thirteen's mouth drops and she's shocked that he might actually be able to help her. She gets up and follows him out of the room.

Morning comes soon. Chase and Thirteen are in the ddx office having coffee. They are both composed having had a long conversation through the rest of the night. Each now knowing a secret about the other. They are looking through a stack of files. Trzaska walks in with coffee in his hand and sits down next to Chase. Trzaska sighs and nods a greeting at Chase. He takes a sip of his coffee and he and Thirteen smile briefly at each other. Suddenly Foreman walks into the office. He walks over to the sink getting coffee. Finally, Taub comes in and sits down at the table. He and Foreman's gazes meet and they nod at each other. Taub picks up the file Chase and Thirteen have been perusing, then yawns.

"Late night," Chase asks.

"No," Taub responds. "Just haven't had my coffee yet."

Trzaska yawns next and smiles, speaking before anyone could say anything. "Yes I did have a long night unfortunately."

Thirteen yawns and Taub looks at her, ready to repeat Chase's question. "Sympathetic yawn," Thirteen says, dismissing the incident. She opens a file. "Ooh! Amish kid collapsed while picking up a hooker. Top that."

"Missed a call from House last night," Foreman says. "He in?"

Everyone shakes their head "No."

Meanwhile, House is just waking up in a hospital bed. He hesitantly slides his hand down his right thigh, not at all sure what he will find.

"You're lucky," Wilson says sitting in an easy chair beside the bed.

"What are you doing here," House whines.

"You hoping for someone else," Wilson asks.

"Hot nurse, candy striper…someone who doesn't speak English," House says. "Someone who doesn't speak judgmental."

Wilson gets up, and picks up Rachel's letter off the table at the bottom of the bed. "You've got mail." Wilson reads the letter. "I hope your leg feels better and I hope we can be friends again soon, you bloody scallywag."

"I have to pee," House says.

"That's a good sign, Wilson says putting down the letter and handing House an empty urine bottle."

House looks irritated at Wilson and throws back the blankets. "I'm a big boy."

Wilson comes around to House's side of the bed. "Of course you are." Wilson reaches to help House out of bed, but House slaps him away.

House manages to stand, but as soon as he lets go of the hospital bed rail, his right leg goes out on him and he sits back down on the bed.

"You're an ass," Wilson says.

"What, for trying to walk on a freshly mangled leg," House asks. "Performing surgery on myself? For thinking I could solve my emotional problems with rat medicine? If you're gonna nag, at least have the decency to be specific." House tries to stand again and this time he allows Wilson to support him.

"Come on," Wilson says hoisting House up. "Listen to me. You can't keep going like this. Something has to change."

"Can I pee first," House asks. He looks at Wilson who looks back at him. House nods slightly, then turns away. "I know." With Wilson's help, House hobbles toward the bathroom.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Did you enjoy this little dive into Trzaska's abilities and psyche? Wilson has decided to take Trzaska under his wing. Perhaps seeing something more in the young man than he sees in himself. Stay tuned to see how things will continue to change as House tries to make the biggest changes in his life.**


	17. Moving On Part 1

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy.

**A/N: Sigh, this is sadly the beginning of the end of this story. But I can assure you not the end of Adam Trzaska's tale. I have decided to end Changes here because this is where Season 7 ended. And I will start a new story, which will take place between Season 7 and 8, to tell the rest of Adam's part in the House universe. (Link will be attached to the final chapter of Moving On) Am trying to keep the overall plot canon to what David Shore, et al, created, but will probably change a few things I didn't like. I will try to wrap it up neatly at the end of it all though. Please enjoy and as always let me know your thoughts.**

* * *

><p>It's night, everything is a little blurry. Cuddy looks around, gray and shocked. There are policemen and police cars. A fireman walks around his truck. Looky-Lous are standing behind the yellow 'Police Line Do Not Cross' tape that is strung chest-high.<p>

Wilson is sitting on the tail of an ambulance. He winces as an EMT attaches a temporary cast to his arm. He nods to the EMT, indicating that it's fine.

Cuddy's face is pinched. There are a couple of tears on her cheeks. She swallows hard and composes herself. "Are we, uh, almost done here? I have to call my mother, get my daughter, call the hospital."

"So he didn't threaten you," Officer Soltes asks.

"No," Cuddy responds.

"No fight," Soltes asks.

"Not really," Cuddy responds.

"Sounds like a yes," Soltes says.

Cuddy looks up at him. She gives a very tiny shake of her head.

"Was there any indication that something would happen," Soltes asks.

"Yeah…" Cuddy gives a mirthless chuckle. "Every moment I spent with him. I was always waiting for something to happen. But this…" Her face tightens and she shakes her head slightly.

"And no idea where he is," Soltes asks.

"No," Cuddy responds.

"These domestic situations, it's not uncommon to get cold feet," Soltes states.

"Are you asking me to file charges," Cuddy asks. "Just give me the paperwork. If Greg House steps foot in my hospital again, comes anywhere near me, I want him thrown in jail."

Three Days Earlier

An axe is hanging by its handle in front of a white brick wall. It twists slowly. There's an orange and red fan, also hanging are a can of paint thinner, a flashlight, goggles, a box of strike anywhere matches, bullets, a mirror, scissors, etc. Everything is hanging from a metal rack suspended from the ceiling. The only other objects in the room are empty book cases on each side, a window in the center and a chair. Afsoun Hamidi, the performance artist, sits on the chair. She is wearing a white evening gown. Luca, Afsoun's assistant, stands to the side, next to a hanging collar, chain, clamps, and baseball bat. A female patron approaches him. The other visitors to the installation have Afsoun with their backs to the camera.

"So… we can use any of these," the female patron asks.

"Yeah," Luca responds.

Afsoun sits perfectly still on her chair. Her neck is held high. Her hair is in a French braid and she has tasteful makeup on. She blinks.

"And just do whatever we want to her," the female patron asks.

"That's what they're there for," Luca replies.

The patron laughs slightly and moves toward Afsoun. The screen goes black.

"Hey. We were just getting to the good part," House says annoyed. House is sitting in his bed in the ICU. The team surrounds him and his laptop.

"Is there a good part," Chase asks. "It was performance art."

"That's Afsoun Hamidi," Thirteen says. "She's a genius. She just won the MacArthur, legally proving it. Just had a retrospective at the Tate Modern." Everyone looks at Thirteen strangely. "Nobody reads The New Yorker?""

"Nope," House responds. "But I subscribe to her patient file."

"House, you should relax," Trzaska says. "You had surgery this morning."

"Minor surgery, removing a drain," House replies.

"Put there during major surgery," Chase argues.

"My doctor says it's okay as long as I don't leave my hospital bed," House responds.

"Which doctor was that," Taub asks. "Seuss or J?"

"Nurse," House calls on his nurse walking by for support.

"Dr. Hourani wrote it in his chart," the nurse says.

Foreman grabs the chart and reads it. He raises his eyebrows.

"I'm surprised he approved it," Thirteen says. "I'm more surprised you actually asked."

"I do things like that now," House states. "I'm making some changes… like skipping ahead to minute 37."

Afsoun's audience is closer now and in a circle around her. She's wearing the chain as a necklace. There are blobs of gray paint on her face, chest, arms and dress. A large knife is in her right hand, pointing up and back. She doesn't move. A blonde woman on the floor is cutting Afsoun's skirt. She stops and jumps up as one guy takes the can of paint thinner and pours it over Afsoun's shoulders.

Chase leans in to watch the monitor. "What is that…paint thinner?"

Back at the installation, the guy has put down the can of paint thinner and takes the box of matches down. He pulls out a match and approaches Afsoun.

Chase turns off the video. "I'm not gonna watch a woman get set on fire."

"Philistine," House says turning the monitor back on.

Back at the gallery, the guy strikes the match. As he approaches her, writing can be seen on Afsoun's face. On her right cheek, after a blob of paint, it says "IAR." Running down the left side of her face is 七転八起 (7 falls, 8 rises.)

"Who's the guy with the notebook who can't decide what to do," Thirteen asks.

"Her assistant," House replies. "He's been instructed not to intervene. Spoiler alert…he does."

Luca drops what he's holding and wrestles the guy away from Afsoun who moves for the first time, turning her head to watch them. She looks worried. For her, it is literally heartbreaking. Afsoun falls off her stool and is stretched out on the floor.

"Let the games begin," House says.

"Arrhythmia, high hematocrit, and inconsistent RR variability," Chase says.

"You forgot about the fourth symptom…being completely crazy," Foreman says.

"One man's crazy is another woman's art," Thirteen says. "Her work explores things like gender politics and self-image."

"And the pressing issue of shaving your entire body in public while wearing a monkey mask," House says. He pulls up a picture of that from an on-line article.

"She saw her mom commit suicide and was abused by her stepdad for years," Thirteen states.

"Didn't say the crazy wasn't motivated," Foreman says.

"Well, she took that pain and transformed it into art," Thirteen says. "That's better than a lot of the alternatives."

"I still vote for nuts," Foreman says. "We should run a resting-state functional MRI to look for increased activity in the dorsal nexus."

"She's not nuts," House replies.

"The monkey-mask-shaving medium really speaks to you," Chase asks.

"What speaks to me is she's elevated being full of crap to a genuine art form and made a fortune doing it," House responds. "People that pay 20 grand for one of her video stills, on the other hand, really do need their dorsal nexi checked."

"Maybe the paint thinner set off an allergic reaction," Trzaska suggests.

"Not without bronchospasm," Chase rebuts.

"There was a space heater next to her in the gallery," Taub states.

House pulls up the picture of Afsoun lying on the floor. "Carbon monoxide poisoning. It fits. Put her in a hyperbaric chamber." The team leaves, House closes the monitor and retrieves his cell phone from the bedside table.

Trzaska catches up to Chase in the hall. "Robert, got a minute?"

"Sure what's up," Chase asks falling in step with Trzaska.

"I need a favor," Trzaska slows his pace a little. Thirteen, Foreman and Taub don't notice and continue walking. Chase frowns and gets a puzzled look on his face. "The pain is getting worse. Tramadol is barely touching it anymore. I think I need something a little stronger. Feel like doing a physical?"

Chase's frown disappears and is replaced with a smile. "Thought you were going to ask me to just write you a script, come on." They continue down the hall heading for the clinic and an exam room.

Meanwhile Cuddy is in the "World's Best Coffee" coffee bar. She pulls her phone from her purse. A nice-looking guy in a dress shirt and tie sees her and turns around.

"Lisa," the man says. "You're Lisa Cuddy."

"What's this about," Cuddy asks him.

"I'm sorry, I'm Jerry Barrett," the man says. "I recognize you from the photos. They barely do you justice."

"The usual," Cuddy says to the barista.

"I'm friends with your sister," Jerry says. "She showed me your photos. I…I work at the bank across the street. Um, Julia's my client. She… wanted to set us up."

"Oh, I…I'm afraid you have me mixed up with somebody else," Cuddy says.

"N…no, I don't think so," Jerry says. "I…I've seen many pictures of you several times." Cuddy looks at him. "That didn't sound the way I wanted…"

"I guess I just have one of those faces," Cuddy says. "It's nice to meet you."

Jerry replies to her retreating back, "Yeah, s…say hi to Lisa Cuddy when you meet her in the office you share."

Later, Cuddy enters the ICU.

"Oh, thank God. The I.C.U. isn't being attacked by giant radioactive spiders," Cuddy says, her tone clearly annoyed.

"Did I text you that," House asks. "That was meant for my dream journal. I wanted to return your stuff. Don't worry. I didn't go AWOL. I had my wife-maid bring it over."

There's a cardboard box on House's tray table. Cuddy looks inside. "My sweater, a coffee mug, a half-used bottle of lotion, and a DVD of Marley & Me," Cuddy says.

"Given your thing for Owen Wilson, I thought you might want those last two back asap," House says.

"I don't get it," Cuddy says.

"You masturbate to Owen Wilson," House says a little annoyed Cuddy didn't get the joke.

"I meant the box," Cuddy replies still confused.

"Oh. It's a symbolic gesture," House says. "I want things to go back to the way they were before we started dating…no more bad feelings, no more issues, just work." Cuddy nods, skeptically. "Thanks for coming." House grabs his laptop from the bedside table as he dismisses her.

"I haven't even spoken to you since you hurt yourself," Cuddy says.

"I was self-destructive," House replies. "It won't happen again. I'm making changes. I'm gonna stop doing stupid things."

"Great," Cuddy replies honestly happy for him. "The smart thing to do would be to talk about why you did it. If you don't understand…"

"I think I could avoid putting another hole in my leg without talking about my mother," House interrupts.

"Well, I don't want to find out you're wrong by getting another phone call from you in a bloody bathtub," Cuddy says.

"I'm a big believer that the best way to get past the past is to shoot it in the head, bury it in a deep pit, and pour lye on it," House replies.

Cuddy sits on the foot of the bed. "I'm just asking you to talk about it," she says. "You owe me." House looks suspicious. "Forget about saving your life. You exposed my daughter to that obnoxious pirate cartoon."

House looks around as he thinks about this. "Bring me lunch tomorrow, and we can plumb my depths."

Cuddy smiles and leaves. House doesn't look happy. He leans over and takes a familiar orange vial from his bedside table. He opens it, pours some vicodin in his hand and eats them.

Meanwhile in another part of the hospital, Afsoun is laying in a hyperbaric chamber. Thirteen and Foreman are sitting behind a desk in a glass observation room connected to the room housing the chamber. Their eyes are trained on the computer monitors in front of them. Luca stands between the desk and Afsoun.

"I should have known the gallery wasn't ventilated enough," Luca says.

"Hey, if it wasn't for you, we'd be treating her for third-degree burns, too," Thirteen says.

"That was a mistake," Afsoun says. "He shouldn't have interfered."

"I told you I'm sorry," Luca says. "I want to share your commitment, but it's hard for me sometimes."

"Like when she read your love letters in the middle of the New Museum," Foreman asks. Thirteen looks at him puzzled. "Yes, I read The New Yorker."

"That was a year ago," Luca says. "And we're…we're not together anymore."

"Seriously, you weren't really gonna let that guy set you on fire," Foreman says. "He was just a plant to get the crowd going, right?"

"If that's your interpretation, I welcome it," Afsoun says.

"Afsoun believes explaining her work limits its potential," Luca says. "But between us, he was real and a total dick."

"No sane person would let themselves be burned alive for the sake of art," Foreman says.

"My work is meant to force the audience to break with the rational and see things in a new way," Afsoun says.

"Fine," Foreman settles. "No sane person would let themselves be burned alive to 'break with the rational.'"

"I feel…" Afsoun raises her head and starts vomiting. Thirteen and Foreman rush over.

"Luca, hand me the oxygen mask behind you," Thirteen says. Luca is frozen and doesn't respond. "Luca!"

Luca stands still with his eyes closed as Afsoun coughs, pressing her hands against the glass of the chamber.

In another part of the hospital Taub is doing an ultrasound on Ruby. She smiles broadly.

"Congratulations," Taub says. "It's a gestational sac. Can't see anything this early."

"I know," Ruby replies. "I just figured this would help me process what's happening. There's a lot we got to figure out."

"We have almost eight months," Taub says. "You're not having doubts, are you?"

"No," Ruby replies. "Are you?"

"Definitely not," Taub states with conviction. "Nice, cozy home for little Ruben." Ruby makes an 'ick' face. "It's a family name."

"It's a sandwich," Ruby replies.

"Named for my family," Taub states while smiling.

If you like piña coladas

Taub pulls his phone out of his pocket. Rachel Taub is calling. There's a picture of her on the screen. Taub presses the 'decline' button. "It's just House," Taub says to Ruby, putting his phone back in his pocket.

In an exam room in the clinic, Chase is going over Trzaska's medical file, it's thick. Chase finishes reading and puts an x-ray up on a viewing window. "You're on 100 mg every six hours," Chase asks Trzaska who's sitting on the exam table rubbing his leg.

"Yeah," Trzaska replies softly, clearly in pain. "I would take more but I don't want to risk seizing."

Chase looks back at Trzaska, "Well let's have a look shall we?" Chase pulls up the stool while Trzaska takes his pants off.

"Be gentle," Trzaska says in a girly voice as Chase starts to palpate his leg.

"Damn Adam, how long has your knee been grinding," Chase asks.

"Since the surgery," Trzaska replies.

"I don't mean to seem cocky but I could fix that right up," Chase replies moving from Trzaska's patella to his quad muscles.

Trzaska flinches as Chase hits a tender spot, "No offense Robert but I'm a little gun shy when it comes to going under the knife. And if something did go wrong I wouldn't want it to be on your hands. Wouldn't do well for our friendship." Trzaska smiles but then flinches again as Chase hits another tender spot. "Ouch."

"Sorry mate," Chase apologizes and pushes himself away from Trzaska with his foot, the stool wheeling a few feet back. "Well, I think your rehab has been incorrectly calculated. Your quadriceps muscles have gotten so big that the Vastus medialis is putting too much pressure on the patellar tendon. I'd really like to get an MRI to confirm but we can't do that because of all the metal in your leg. I'm gonna write you a script for hydrocodone and set you up with Heather in Physio." Chase pulls out a prescription pad and starts writing on it. He tears the sheet off and hands it to Trzaska. "Why don't you go see her this afternoon? I'll tell her you're coming so she can work you in."

Trzaska nods and grabs his pants, pulling them over his good left leg before slowly pulling them over his bad right leg. He grabs his cane and heads for the door. Chase grabs the x-rays and the rest of Trzaska's file and carries it out with him. "Is she cute," Trzaska asks.

"Gorgeous brunette," Chase replies. "And she's single too." Chase opens the file once they reach the nurses' station and writes a little more in it. Once he's finished, he lays the file in a slot on the desk.

"I'm gonna go pick up my script," Trzaska says. "See you at the differential." Trzaska limps away heading towards the pharmacy as Chase goes the other way to find out what's going on with the case.


	18. Moving On Part 2

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy

* * *

><p>Later that day Cuddy's in her dining room talking to Julia while she sorts a basket of clean clothes.<p>

"I swear to God, stay out of my personal life," Cuddy says.

"Where is the downside here," Julia asks.

"Huh," Cuddy questions.

"Jerry is cute," Julia starts. "He's a senior V.P. He kite-surfs in Costa Rica every winter, and he loves his mother."

"Seasonally," Cuddy asks. "Or is that just the kite-surfing?"

"Is this about House," Julia asks.

"What? Like I secretly wish I could alter the laws of the universe, change who we are, and magically make it work out," Cuddy asks.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm asking," Julia states crossing her arms.

"My sarcasm indicated no," Cuddy responds.

"No, your sarcasm indicated you wanted to avoid actually saying anything," Julia says. "Look, Lisa…all I know is you seem stuck. And I don't like seeing you like that."

Meanwhile back at the hospital, Thirteen and Foreman are standing next to House's ICU bed.

"She got worse in the hyperbaric chamber," Foreman says. "It's not C.O. poisoning."

"I think we should consider infection and test the assistant," Thirteen says. "I couldn't get his attention. He was in a daze."

"You think that's a symptom," Foreman asks looking at Thirteen. "He's in love with her. He was probably overwhelmed, couldn't decide what to do."

"What's he been doing since she was admitted," House asks. "Did he bring anything from the patient room to the treatment room?"

"A few things…a handbag, flowers, stuffed elephant," Foreman lists.

"Does she seem like the kind of woman who needs a stuffed animal," House asks. He rolls over, gets his cell phone from the bedside table and starts to dial.

"Who are you calling," Thirteen asks. Her phone rings and she pulls it out of her pocket looking at the caller i.d. She sees it's House. "Oh, of course," Thirteen says answering her phone.

House clears his throat and speaks in a flirtatious, sleazy voice. "What are you wearing?" Thirteen gives House an annoyed look wanting him to hurry past his mocking. House makes a fake 'duh' expression. "Oh, I can see what you're wearing. Go to her room."

Thirteen leaves and a few minutes later she arrives in Afsoun's room. Afsoun's smiling at Luca who stands next to her bed.

"Now go address the elephant in the room," House voice says through Thirteen's phone.

Thirteen walks to the bed tray. A cute stuffed elephant is there next to Afsoun's purse. Thirteen pulls one of its ears up as she starts to inspect it. Afsoun sits up. She and Luca both watch. Thirteen undoes a zipper in the elephant's back. "This is a Nanny Cam," she says.

Luca sighs. Afsoun listens with interest.

House's voice continues to come through Thirteen's phone. "The reason Luca couldn't decide what to do in the treatment room is the same as in the gallery. He's been told not to intervene. Congratulations. We've become her latest work of art."

Thirteen holds the elephant up and leans into it. Her face and the scene behind her become distorted as if they were being seen in a highly convex mirror.

Thirteen leaves the room with the elephant and goes back to House's ICU bed. After several minutes the team assembles in the ICU. House mugs for the elephant then turns it on the team as Thirteen fills them in.

"It shouldn't have surprised us," Thirteen says. "All her work is based on personal traumas. She's had Luca taking notes, videotape her treatments, collect things, like sharps and bandages. It'll all go into a gallery installation."

"Well, then I guess as long as long as the exploitation is properly motivated, it's all okay," Taub says annoyed.

If you like piña coladas

The team watches as Taub takes his phone from his pocket and turns it off.

"Ultrasound showed a cyst on her pancreas…we drained it," Chase says.

"Why are we even discussing this case," Taub asks. "She lied to us. It's opening us up to malpractice."

"Our practice opens us up to malpractice," House says.

"How do we know she's actually sick," Trzaska asks.

"Her being sick is a clue," House says.

"She would have let that guy set her on fire for the sake of her work," Foreman says. "You think she's scared of a little arrhythmia? She probably huffed paint thinner."

"She would have let him set her on fire because of the honesty of her work," Thirteen states. "Faking an illness doesn't fit."

"Thirteen's right…" House says. "At least her conclusion was. Everything else was laughably wrong. If the patient induced pancreatitis and a heart attack, she'd be suicidal."

"Exactly," Chase says. "She's risking her life all the time."

"Exactly, if she wanted to be dead, she'd be dead a long time ago," House says. "Pretending to cheat death pays better than watercolors. Coxsackie B fits. But do a spiral C.T. of her biliary tree to rule out gallstones."

"Fine. I'll get the C.T.," Foreman says.

"Sure. I'd be happy to come with you," House says. "Thanks for asking." Alarms start beeping as House detaches wires from his body.

"You're supposed to stay in bed…doctor's orders," Foreman says.

House sits up with difficulty. "If you really cared about me, you wouldn't be so obvious when you scheme to prove me wrong," House says. "You volunteered because you want to C.T. her lungs, not her biliary tree. You want to find fibrosis and prove your paint thinner theory. If I don't come with, when you fail, you'll pretend you never tried. I don't really have a choice, now, do I?" House props himself up on metal crutches, everyone looks at Foreman who admits House is right by turning around and leading the way without a fight.

Foreman gets Afsoun loaded into the C.T. machine while House waits in the control room. House begins spinning in his chair while Foreman monitors the scan. House stops and looks pointedly at Foreman who pulls some money from his pocket .

"Since I've seen your paycheck, I probably shouldn't," House says. He takes the money from Foreman. "Canned beans aren't so bad…as long as they're cooked over an oil-drum fire under a bridge with the king of the hobos."

"I feel dizzy," Afsoun says.

Foreman rushes over and gets her out of the machine. She is shaking. "Pale, diaphoretic, tachycardic, B.P., 80 over 40. Internal bleeding?"

"Get her out of here and scope her," House says.

Meanwhile in the I.C.U. Cuddy enters with two take-away trays. House's bed is empty. She sighs, exasperated.

She turns around and almost bumps into Trzaska who was walking towards House's bed. "Adam, what are you doing here," Cuddy asks a little angrily.

"Whoa, don't take your anger out on me just 'cause House isn't here," Trzaska replies. "Where is House by the way?"

"No idea," Cuddy says, her voice a little confused. "How did you know I was angry because House wasn't here?"

"You don't think James is incapable of making new friends do you," Trzaska asks. He sits down on House's bed and rubs his leg.

"Your leg bothering you," Cuddy asks, her face a little solemn.

"Yeah, Robert was monkeying with it a little while ago," Trzaska answers. "Just a little inflamed."

"Why was Chase fiddling with your knee," Cuddy asked crossing her arms.

"Pain has been getting worse," Trzaska replied. "Thought I might need something a little stronger so I asked Robert to give me a second opinion."

"And," Cuddy asked.

"He agreed," Trzaska says. "Wrote me a script for hydrocodone and set me up with Heather in Physio for this afternoon."

"Heather, she's good," Cuddy says. "And cute," Cuddy smiles. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Trzaska says and gets up leaving the ICU.

A short while later in Afsoun's room, Chase and Foreman are looking for the source of the bleed using a needle and ultrasound. Luca is at the foot of the bed, taking pictures.

"I'm sorry," Chase says.

"Ooh," Afsoun says questioningly.

"The colonoscopy didn't find the bleed, so we got to look by your liver," Chase says.

Luca stops shooting and stands there, looking worried.

"Luca, please," Afsoun begins. "We need to document everything." Luca takes more pictures.

"Hold this," Foreman says to Chase.

Chase takes an instrument from Foreman who turns, takes the camera from Luca, opens the trashcan and drops the camera inside. He returns to the procedure.

"I'm just below the celiac artery," Foreman says.

Luca picks up the elephant and moves it around, using it to video the procedure.

"No blood," Foreman says.

"Could it be leaking into her thighs," Chase questions.

Foreman lifts the blanket to look at her legs. "No swelling, no asymmetry."

"So where's the blood going," Chase responds. Foreman inspects Afsoun's feet. "Why are you looking down there?"

"'Cause I don't like beans," Foreman says.

Meanwhile in the ICU, House has the curtains around his bed drawn. He's reading and taking notes. Cuddy suddenly pushes the curtains open, angrily and closes them behind her.

"You stood me up," Cuddy says.

"Sorry," House replies. "Should have scheduled my patient's internal bleeding for Thursday."

"You're still playing the same petty, passive-aggressive games," Cuddy says still angry.

"Got you to go all the way to the second floor of a building you work in. Boy, did I screw with you," House retorts.

"You said you were going to change," Cuddy states, staring at House.

"Check the sign. It says you got to treat me with intensive care," House says.

"I'm expressing my anger. You should try it," Cuddy says talking with her hands. "Right now, let's finally have our fight."

"All we do is fight," House says taking his glasses off.

"No, all you've done is pull pranks or have temper tantrums with Wilson, never me, marry mail-order prostitutes, make me go to your wedding…" Cuddy starts.

"Dominika is a licensed aesthetician," House interrupts.

"You cut open your own leg," Cuddy fires back.

"So all this was about you," House asks.

"You don't think it was even related," Cuddy asks, surprised House is playing dumb. "House, we've never even had a conversation about our breakup. You are obviously still angry at me. And it's hurting both of us."

"Wow, I hadn't realized the incredible healing power of lunch," House states.

"I know one conversation isn't gonna solve everything, but it is a start," Cuddy says. Foreman pulls the curtain open. Cuddy turns to him. "It's a privacy curtain."

"It wasn't working," Foreman says calmly.

Cuddy looks at House who nods. "Lunch at 1:00, tomorrow in the cafeteria," House says. "You happy?"

Cuddy tosses her head and leaves slowly. House reaches for his pills and takes some.

"How many of those have you had today," Foreman asks.

"I don't know," House replies. "Is 'your mother' a number?"

"The patient is a fraud," Foreman says ignoring House's rebuttal. "I found a puncture in the dorsal vein of her left foot."

"Shooting up heroin wouldn't explain…" House starts.

"Not heroin," Foreman interrupts. "She was injecting herself with her own red blood cells. It caused her heart issues, and when her hematocrit evened out, we mistook it for internal bleeding."

"It must have been a very distinctively shaped and awfully talkative puncture for you to get all of that," House says inquisitively.

"Browser history on her laptop helped," Foreman says and hands House a file folder. "She was researching blood doping among other things."

Inside is an article "The World's Best Diagnostics Department." House looks slightly stunned as he flips to the next page. "She was researching me?"

"For months," Foreman answers. "This isn't about creating art in the moment. It's about you. She set you up."

Flash forward to Cuddy's lawn at night. The unreal quality of the sound and activity is still there. Wilson sits, nursing his broken wrist, which is in a cast.

"We sent a unit over to his apartment and the hospital," Officer Soltes says to Wilson.

"Yeah, he won't be there," Wilson says quietly, almost as if talking to himself.

"Any ideas," Soltes asks.

"When you find him, you're gonna arrest him," Wilson asks.

"Is there some reason you think I shouldn't," Soltes asks.

"Knowing him, he'll be in a bar," Wilson says. "He'll find one that matches how he feels inside. It'll be the most dark, depressing hole you can find in New Jersey."

Flash forward to Afsoun's room. House is at the foot of her bed, leaning on his crutches.

"Now you're just pissing me off," House says.

"I'm really sorry," Luca says apologizing. "I…I didn't know she researched you. I had no idea she…"

"If you don't know anything, then why are you talking," House asks staring a hole through Luca.

"Please don't take it out on Luca," Afsoun says.

"I'll take it out on whoever I think will irritate you the most," House says still clearly angry.

"I thought you would understand someone who uses their work to deal with pain," Afsoun says.

"I didn't realize that search engines could look within the soul," House retorts.

"You're standing in front of me in a hospital gown," Afsoun states.

"What the hell was the point of this," House asks. "What personal trauma are you exploiting? I'm…sorry…mining for its artistic potential?"

"My illness," Afsoun answers. "I did the blood doping to intrigue you, but I was already ill."

House looks stunned.

"Wait. You're really sick," Luca asks even more stunned than House.

"Why me," House asks.

"Do you know what you have," Luca asks.

"Yes," Afsoun answers and nods.

"So tell him," Luca says seriously.

"If I do, there won't be any game for him, and then there won't be any art for us," Afsoun states with conviction.

"Why me," House asks again, clearly annoyed.

"I don't answer those questions," Afsoun says.

"You know, there's a lot of games I could play that don't involve dealing with narcissistic, manipulative poseurs," House states.

"But this is a puzzle tailor-made for you," Afsoun says almost as if selling the idea. "You don't know which of my symptoms are real, which are fake, which ones I'm not even telling you about. I know that intrigues you. Do you really want to end it now?"

"No," House answers quietly.

A short while later, the team assembles around House's ICU bed; however, Trzaska is missing.

"You want us to waste a bed on her," Chase asks.

"You took an oath…an oath to be cool," House says. "At least that was the one I mumbled under my breath while everyone else was doing the boring one."

"Even if she is sick, which I don't believe, she also says she has a diagnosis," Foreman says. "So it's either just a lie, or it's just a game."

Trzaska slowly limps up and stands next to Chase.

"So what," House says giving Trzaska a funny look. "I like the game. It's fun." He looks back at Foreman. "Go get a blood culture. Check for parasites and bacteria."

"This is the new House…half the leg power, twice the irresponsibility," Foreman asks.

"The new House is about making my life healthier," House responds. "Never said anything about yours. Go get her blood."

No one moves. Finally Thirteen looks at the others. "I'll do it." The others look at her as if she's crazy. "He's going through a tough patch right now. If this is the distraction he needs to keep him in his hospital bed, I'm sure it's better than any of the alternatives." Thirteen leaves.

"That was incredibly condescending," House says. "Did it work?"

Chase and Trzaska look at each other and shrug. They both turn and follow Thirteen. Taub and Foreman look at each other but don't move…yet.

"Trzaska, stick around," House says.

If you like piña coladas, Taub's phone rings.

"That's your cue to leave," House says to Taub and Foreman.

Taub and Foreman leave begrudgingly and get into the elevator. Taub pulls out is phone and turns it off.

"Why do you keep ducking your wife's calls," Foreman asks.

"Ex-wife," Taub answers.

"I'm sure she just wants to congratulate you about knocking up a 22-year-old nurse," Foreman says.

"I haven't told her yet," Taub mutters under his breath.

"But you have told her you're not gonna sleep with her anymore, right," Foreman asks. He is answered with silence. "How are you planning on letting her know? Just invite her to the bris?"

"I'm trying to let her down easy," Taub says. "Rachel never wanted to have kids. I don't want  
>to hurt her feelings."<p>

"Yeah. You are all about feelings," Foreman says.

"I've loved Rachel for 20 years. What if she never speaks to me again," Taub asks seriously.

"She's gonna find out," Foreman says. "It better be from you. You can't cheat your way out of this one." The elevator doors open and he leaves. Taub doesn't move.

Back in House's ICU bed, House is looking hard at Trzaska.

"So how's the leg," House asks. "Noticed 'The Wolf' was dragging one of his legs a little more than usual."

"It's fine," Trzaska says. "Can I go now?"

House smirks and turns his head slightly. "I know that limp. Pain meds only work for so long before you have to change scripts. Get something stronger?"

"Yeah, Chase prescribed something a little spicier. Hopefully it'll kick in soon," Trzaska replies.

House nods, reaches over to the bedside table, grabs his pills and pops two vicodin. "Go help Barbie and Jade."

Trzaska nods and leaves the room heading for the patient's room.


	19. Moving On Part 3

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy

**A/N: Just a quick note here. From here on out I'm going to try something new. I am going to pick actual actors/actresses to play the roles of new characters I introduce. Hopefully it will be easier on everyone to picture what I see. But some people enjoy reading more than t.v. because they have the freedom to picture who they want. (Let me know if you like this little experiment or not) With that in mind, this is the first chapter we meet Heather the Physical Therapist, P.T. for short. Heather is played by Mila Kunis. As always please leave me reviews and feedback/criticism. I promise I take all of it to heart, and I have altered my writing over the years (hopefully for the better) because of readers suggestions. Above all else, please enjoy.**

* * *

><p>A short while later Chase, Trzaska, and Thirteen are in Afsoun's room. As Chase injects something in her arm, she half sits up and whimpers.<p>

"What is it," Thirteen asks.

"Oh, just the nausea," Afsoun replies.

Luca speaks up, "She said her back was hurting earlier."

"What's the pain level on a scale of one to ten," Thirteen asks.

"Five," Afsoun answers breathing heavily.

"How do we know we can take her word for it," Trzaska asks.

"We can't," Thirteen says. "Fun, huh?" She looks down at Afsoun, "Roll on your side."

Trzaska watches as Thirteen and Chase check Afsoun's hip which is purple.

"Grey Turner's sign," Chase says.

"What does that mean," Trzaska asks.

"It means we're done playing," Thirteen says. She looks down at Afsoun again. "Your pancreas is releasing corrosive enzymes. It'll eat away at the surrounding organs."

"But you must know that," Chase says. "The doctor who diagnosed you would have said what will happen if you don't get treatment."

Afsoun weakly turns her head and looks at them when they are talking but she doesn't say a word.

"Just tell them," Luca begs. "If you know what's wrong with you, tell them so they can fix it."

"How many projects have we done together," Afsoun asks Luca. "You're always so worried. Have you ever gone wrong trusting me?"

Luca bows his head. Thirteen looks perplexed. She leaves the room and heads to find House.

Meanwhile House is sitting up in his ICU bed watching his soap on a handheld TV. Thirteen enters.

"That pancreatic cyst we drained…it's back, and she doesn't care at all," Thirteen says.

"You think she actually is suicidal," House asks looking up from his soap.

"I would, but how did she give herself the cysts," Thirteen asks. "Tox screen was negative, and there's no sign of trauma."

House reaches for his laptop. "There is another explanation. The reason she didn't react isn't 'cause she wants to die. It's 'cause she knows she can't do anything about it. Whatever she has is fatal." He turns the screen so Thirteen can see the picture House pulled up. Afsoun looks drawn and ashen. "That should narrow it down." After pausing for a moment, House speaks again. "Schedule an MRI, I'll be down soon."

A short while later Afsoon is in the machine. House is at the computer and Luca is in the control room with him.

"What are we doing here," Luca asks.

"Testing a theory," House replies. "It's based on some stuff you can't understand, like RR variability, and some stuff you can, like the fact that she shaved her head in an art piece four months ago."

Afsoun's face is framed on the monitor which is right next to the elephant cam.

"That was a commentary on society's…" Luca starts but House interrupts.

"It was a commentary on the fact that it was gonna fall out anyway, and she wanted to hide why," House says.

"Cancer," Luca asks. "Are…are you sure about that?"

"See that tumor-ish thingamajig near her brainamabob," House says pointing to the screen.

"Oh, God," Luca says almost inaudibly.

House looks at the camera and talks to Afsoun. "Are you getting this? Game's over. I won. Primary CNS lymphoma with associated paraneoplastic syndrome."

"Is that really what it is," Luca asks.

"Yes," Afsoun answers. "Four months ago, I had some vision and balance problems, and New York Mercy diagnosed me. The tumor was too close to the brain stem to cut out, so they did a few rounds of radiation. But it didn't work, and they sent me home."

"That was around the time you broke up with me," Luca says to himself.

"We were having a fling," Afsoun starts. "It wouldn't have been fair to involve you."

"I'm involved now," Luca says. "You just didn't want to open up."

"Luca, my mind was not clear then," Afsoun says.

"And then you cleared it," House says. "Then you realized you could use your death to make your magnum opus. Maybe you wanted to show that no one can cheat death, even an entire team of doctors with unlimited resources. Or maybe your first doctors didn't treat you like a person…just a series of symptoms. You wanted to re-create that depersonalization. And I was the man to see."

"If that was what I thought, I don't any longer," Afsoun says. "You spent time with me. You took this personally."

"No, I didn't," House responds. "And I don't actually think your piece is about anything. I think you just figured out that you're mortal. You're just a bag of cells and waste with an expiration date. You wanted to act out. You wanted people to notice." He pauses before continuing. "Maybe you even prayed for a different answer this time." He picks up the elephant cam and holds it at arm's length. "I got a title for your piece, 'It Doesn't Mean Anything.'"

Later, House enters the ICU. The curtains around his cubicle are drawn. He lifts his crutches to shoulder height and uses them to part the curtains left and right, simultaneously. Wilson is standing by the bed, waiting.

"You're forging my name on prescriptions again," Wilson says. It's not a question.

"No," House starts. Wilson waits. "What you just said implies that I stopped at some point."

"Twenty minutes ago, I put a notice out to all local pharmacies to require verbal authorization before filling my prescriptions," Wilson says.

"You have any idea how much extra work you've just given yourself," House asks. "You're not gonna last a week."

"I've been dealing with this for years," Wilson says. "But it's over…your liver, your hearing, never mind the fact that each script you write is a separate felony. You will serve time, so could I."

"You've chosen this moment to give me crap about my Vicodin use," House asks.

Wilson picks up a pill bottle from the bed table. "You filled this three days ago. Now it's almost half gone."

"So is my leg," House retorts.

"It's a month supply," Wilson says. "The amount you're taking has nothing to do with physical pain."

"Okay. So maybe I am trying to numb myself a little, because I'm trying to change, trying to stop being self-destructive," House says.

"So you can only handle not self-destructing by being self-destructive," Wilson asks.

"What do you want from me," House asks.

"I don't know, House, but I'm worried about you," Wilson says. "I don't know how many times I can watch you cut off pieces of yourself. Now it's the I.C.U. Next time it'll be the morgue. You're miserable. And you're angry. And I want you to actually deal with that and not just try to medicate the issue away."

House looks away and thinks. "No. You know what I feel right now? I don't feel miserable or angry. I don't feel good or bad. I feel… nothing…which feels great."

"What are you doing," Wilson asks.

"Moving on," House says. "In the direction of my house, where I got some more pills." House has been moving around as Wilson was talking. It turns out he was packing. He shoulders his back and walks out. House uses his crutches to leave. He stops at a nearby bathroom to put on some clothes: Jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie. He then makes his way to one of the nurses' desks to check himself out.

"If you're discharging yourself against doctor's orders, you've got to check that box," one of the nurses tells House.

"I'm a doctor," House says. "So, technically…"

"Wouldn't it be easier if you just checked the box," the nurse says.

House picks up the pen, puts the point in the box and, with a flourish, makes a checkmark that covers the entire page. He picks up his bag, turns and sees Afsoun in her bed. House limps to Afsoun's room. "Why are you still here," he asks her.

"I'm going as soon as the nurse brings me something for my eczema," Afsoun says fidgeting and scratching her chest. House looks interested and moves closer. "I figured it was irritated by the paint thinner poured on me in the gallery."

"Does this mean something," Luca asks House.

"It's not eczema," House says. "And it's not cancer." House leaves and picks up a phone at the nurses' station. "It's not cancer," House says to Chase who is on the other end of the phone. "Get down here and do a biopsy to confirm Wegener's granulomatosis." He hangs up the phone and goes up to his office.

Trzaska is walking down the hall while talking to a nurse when he sees Chase walking towards him. "Talk to you later," he says to the nurse just before Chase reaches him. The nurse says goodbye and Trzaska turns his attention to Chase, "What's up?"

"Going to do a biopsy on Afsoun to confirm Wegener's granulomatosis," Chase says without stopping.

Trzaska spins on the spot and falls in step with Chase. "Why," he asks.

"House ordered a biopsy," Chase replies. "Other than that, no idea."

"Want some help," Trzaska asks.

"Sure, but…" Chase looks at his watch. "You need to get to Physio. Heather's not going to wait forever for you."

"All right, I'll check in with you when I'm done," Trzaska replies.

Trzaska and Chase go their separate ways, Chase towards ICU and Trzaska toward Physio.

A short time later Trzaska walks through an open doorway into a medium sized room with workout equipment in it. He knocks on the doorframe to get the young woman's attention. "Heather?" he asks.

"Yes, you must be Dr. Trzaska, pleasure," Heather says getting up from where she was doing some Yoga and crosses the room to shake Trzaska's hand.

Trzaska first notices Heather's height. She's petite, close to 5'3" and very thin. He guesses no more than 115 lbs. She has medium length, dark brown hair, small but pouty red lips, and olive skin. As she gets closer, Trzaska notices she has two different colored eyes, one green the other blue. Heather is dressed in black yoga pants and a dark grey sports bra.

"Please come in. Have a seat." She pulls up a rolling chair so Trzaska can sit comfortably. "Dr. Chase sent me a copy of your file. That's quite an interesting injury you have."

"Yeah, thanks," Trzaska says nervously bouncing his cane off the floor.

"Oh I didn't mean anything by that," she says apologetically. "I already started working on a plan for you, why don't we start with some stretching?"

"Um…I'm sorry but I don't think I'm in the right clothes," Trzaska says.

"Oh it's no problem, I keep some spares down here in case patients forget or are running late or something," Heather says brightly.

Trzaska finds it hard to argue and gets up from his seat. He follows Heather to a locker room in the back and proceeds to dress in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The shorts reveal a few nasty scars over his knee, but he is otherwise muscular. Heather takes him by the hand and leads him back to the front. She shuts the door.

"You do have a good hour to spare right," Heather asks. Trzaska nods and sits on a bench. "Actually we're gonna be on the floor," Heather says. She helps him into a sitting position on the floor. "So the first thing we're gonna do is get your leg stretched out. I read about the surgeries you've had and I have a couple of stretches I want you to try." She has him lay down and gently lifts up his leg and starts to stretch it leaning down further and further. Their faces inches apart, Trzaska and Heather smile at each other.

"So…you have heterochromia iridum," Trzaska says bluntly.

"You noticed," Heather says smiling a little. "Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I hear you have a keen sense of noticing what others don't. That's why you're working for House." She pulls his leg up straight and flexes his foot.

Trzaska grunts a little as Heather stretches his calf. "The walls talk an awful lot around here," he replies.

"I heard it from my cousin," Heather says giggling. "You cured her."

Trzaska thinks quietly for a moment as Heather bends his knee gently and stretches his hamstring. "I don't think I've personally cured anyone here," he says. "Who is your cousin?"

"Handsome and modest," Heather says smiling. "Sam told me all about how you diagnosed her with Lyme's Disease."

"Sam Tolsen?" Trzaska asks surprised.

"You remember her," Heather asks smiling. "It's rare that doctors remember their patients."

"Sam's hard to forget," Trzaska replies. "And a good doctor taught me how important it is to carry the memory of patients." He smiles at Heather and then grunts again as she stretches him further.

"And here I expected you to be just like House," Heather says, grunting herself from leaning into Trzaska's leg. "That's definitely not House talking."

"You know him," Trzaska asks.

"Only by reputation," Heather replies with a sigh. "I went to Dr. Cuddy with Sam's case. Knew she would have been a goner without him. But in fact it was your intelligence that made her better." Heather lays Trzaska's leg down and pats his hip. "Turn over."

"I was only a piece of the puzzle," Trzaska says rolling over as Heather had instructed him. "Trust me, everyone on the team played a vital part in getting Sam better. How is she by the way?"

"She's doing well," Heather replies bending Trzaska's knee to a 90 degree angle. "This stretch will probably hurt the most. I want to see how much pressure your quad is putting on your tendons. Tell me if anything hurts okay?"

"You got it," Trzaska replies looking at a random spot he had picked on the wall, his head laying on his crossed forearms.

Heather starts to slowly bend Trzaska's leg. She can hear him wincing, even though it's barely audible. "She's doing great actually, Sam I mean. Aunt Donna let her go back to school the week after she went home. She's seeing her friends more, acing her classes, and enjoying the time she gets to spend with her boyfriend. And it's all thanks to you."

"I'm…glad," Trzaska says between breaths. "Okay…that hurts."

An hour later Chase walks into House's office with the biopsy results. It's night now. House gets up and he and Chase go to Afsoun's room.

"It's Wegener's granulomatosis," Chase says. "Biopsy confirmed that what you thought was eczema was actually a swelling of the blood vessels in your skin. It also explains the pancreatitis and the mass in your brain. And it's treatable."

Afsoun frowns and nods appreciatively. House sits and watches.

"Um…what's the treatment," Luca asks looking back and forth from House to Chase.

"We could do steroids alone to shrink the growth in your brain, but it's much better to add another course of radiation," Chase answers.

"Radiation," Afsoun asks. "On my brain? But it made me fuzzy last time. It was harder to work. I am still slowed down from it."

"And it'll get worse," House speaks up. "But, you know, dying can also do a number on your ability to think."

"I'm sorry. I can't do the radiation," Afsoun says.

"They just said it was a better treatment," Luca says annoyed. "It could save your life."

"My life's not worth anything if I can't do my art," Afsoun says.

"You have friends, people who care about you," Luca argues.

"This is my brain, my work, and my life, Luca," Afsoun states firmly.

"You have more," Luca says. "This is not some great performance piece anymore. This is just crazy."

"I'm sorry," Afsoun says.

"I can't watch you die…not when you can save yourself," Luca says. He kisses Afsoun's brow. "Good-bye, Afsoun."

Luca leaves. Afsoun, Chase and House look at each other. Finally she raises her eyebrows to House, inviting his comment.

"Good for you," House says.

That wasn't the response Afsoun expected and her face reveals her surprise. House limps away and goes home for the night.

Meanwhile Trzaska is finishing his session for the day.

"Sorry, that took a little longer than I thought it would," Heather says from a sitting position next to Trzaska and wiping her forehead with a towel. "How's the leg?"

"It hurts," Trzaska says sitting on the floor and massaging it.

"I have another client that's supposed to be here soon," Heather says looking at her watch. "But why don't you come back tomorrow and I can try to work some of that soreness out of it," Heather suggests.

"I think I will," Trzaska replies, wiping his own forehead with the back of his hand. "The clothes…"

"Just wash them and you can bring them back tomorrow," Heather says smiling.

"Great," Trzaska says, slightly out of breath. "I will. Thank you." He starts to slowly stand up.

Heather springs to her feet, then bends down and swings Trzaska's right arm around her neck to help him up. "No problem Dr. Trzaska."

"Adam," Trzaska says. "Please, call me Adam."

"All right, Adam," Heather says smiling. She leaves Trzaska for a second to grab his cane from the back. She's back in a moment and hands it to him. Trzaska balances on it and moves to the back to grab his things. "Here take this," Heather says handing him her card when he returns. "That's my number and my cell is on the back. You call me if you need anything. "

"Anything," Trzaska asks with a wink.

"Uh huh, anything," Heather replies with a flirtatious smile.

"Okay, I will," Trzaska says.

"Bye, see you tomorrow," Heather says as Trzaska limps out. She puts her thumb to her lips biting lightly on her nail and smiling as she watches Trzaska leave.


	20. Moving On Part 4

Disclaimer: House and all respective characters do not belong to me. I am only borrowing them for personal enjoyment.

Also I am not a doctor so I have decided to borrow cases used earlier in the show for medical accuracy. My creativity comes in with building and developing character relationships as well as introducing original characters. Criticism and reviews are most welcome. Hope you enjoy

**A/N: Thank you all for your devotion to this story. It started as a little hobby, but with the urging of others (my readers and a big thanks to my beta Vixen) as well as an obsession to bring this idea to life, it grew into a, hopefully appreciated, piece of work. If you liked this story check out the sequel, titled Aftermath. I will be posting it just before I post this final chapter of Changes so I can include the link to the new story at the end of this chapter for your convenience. Thank you again and above all I hope I have entertained you, and inspired you as much as other writers have inspired me. **

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><p>The next day House shows up freshly dressed and with his cane for his lunch with Cuddy.<p>

"So…" House starts, clearly uncomfortable.

"So…Why did I ever ban alcohol from the cafeteria," Cuddy says trying to diffuse the tension. "Before I forget, there's a brush…" she starts now going in another direction. "Tortoise-shell handle, natural bristles…wasn't in the box. If you could look for it…"

"Like the Lindbergh baby," House answers. "You dating anyone?"

"We don't have to…" Cuddy starts.

"Look, it's just standard lunch conversation," House says.

"Not for us," Cuddy replies.

"Okay, well, if you've gone over to the 'we don't talk about things' side, then I've got a pot roast in the oven," House says checking his watch.

"No. I haven't dated anyone since you," Cuddy says.

"Well, you know what they say…once you go gimp…" House starts to joke.

"We s…should talk about your leg," Cuddy interrupts.

House rubs his face. "You think I have unresolved issues, and you are the unresolved issues."

"Yes. But it's…it's…I think it's more than that," Cuddy stammers. "It's your life, your choices."

"I did it to fix my life," House says. "No, wait. No, I did it because I'm a deeply unhappy person." He raises one finger in a 'hold on a second' manner. "No…no, I did it to get sympathy from you. I did it to piss you off. I did it because I'm not over you. Or I was over you, and I was moving on. I did it because I wanted to know what it's like not to be in pain. I did it because I want to feel more pain." Cuddy watches but doesn't react. "Whatever the reason, it was a bad reason and a bad idea. That's all that matters." House stands up and fakes being cheerful. "Good lunch."

House limps away, Cuddy follows catching up with him in the hallway. "House… talk to me!"

"I already did," House says trying to get away.

She gets in front of him so he has to stop. "No, you just parroted back what Wilson and I've been saying to you the last few days."

"Get out of my way," House says.

"No," she says. She looks down and touches his leg. "Oh, you pulled a stitch. House, please just talk to me." She takes his arms, trying to turn him to face her and he explodes. He pushes her against a wall and seems to compress. His nose is about half an inch higher than hers and a whole lot closer than that.

"You want to know how I feel," he shouts at her. He takes two deep breaths then speaks quietly. "I feel hurt."

She takes his hands from her upper arms and holds them. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," House says. He pulls his hands free and walks off.

Meanwhile Thirteen is talking with Afsoun in her room while she places a fresh bag of fluids.

"Did I make the wrong choice," Afsoun asks staring out her room. "Five years, through every opening, every installation, every day and every night, he was there the whole time."

"Except the first time you were diagnosed," Thirteen says. "You broke up with him, and you had to go through all of that alone. Maybe that's the real reason you're doing this piece…so that this time you can have him with you. You still could."

Trzaska heads downstairs from the ddx room after looking over case files trying to find House a new case. He's already wearing workout clothes and is carrying the ones Heather had loaned him, clean and folded. He finds Heather in the same room as before only this time she is sitting at her computer typing an email. Trzaska knocks on the opened door and Heather turns around to look who is there.

"Adam, come on in," Heather says smiling. "I was just finishing an email."

Trzaska limps in and sets the clothes down on her desk. "Thank you again for the clothes. Thought I'd bring my own today."

"It's not a problem," Heather says turning back around, entering a few keystrokes and then hitting the enter key. "There, all done." She turns back around to look at Trzaska. "So today we're gonna focus on some more stretching and then we'll get the kinks worked out of those muscles from yesterday."

"Sounds good," Trzaska says leaning his cane against her desk. He watches as Heather walks around the desk and follows her over to the mats where they had spent most of the previous day stretching.

Heather spends a good half hour stretching Trzaska and then helps him up. "Over here to the table," she says helping support him on the way to the massage table at the other side of the room. Heather has Trzaska lay down on his back. She rubs some oil on her hands and starts gently massaging his left leg. "We'll start with the good leg before we move to the bad one," she says smiling. She rubs his muscles and helps loosen them up. After a few minutes, she moves to the bad one. She never flinches or squints as she moves it around and massages him. After a good half hour, Heather announces they're done. "How do you feel?"

"Really good," Trzaska replies. He sits up and rubs his leg smiling.

"Good, we've got a lot more hard work ahead of us," Heather says. "But we can do it. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I think so," Trzaska says smiling. He notices his cane nearby and realizes Heather must have moved it for him at some point. He gets up off the table slowly and limps, a little better than he has recently, to the door. Heather smiles as she can tell his gait is less painful. Trzaska gets to the door, stops and turns around. "Would you let me take you to dinner Friday night," he asks.

Heather blushes slightly and smiles. "I think I'd like that," she says.

"Good," Trzaska smiles and waves a little shyly at Heather. "See you tomorrow." He turns and limps out of the room.

"Bye," Heather calls as he leaves.

Later in the day, Cuddy goes to the coffee bar she was at the day before trying to clear her head. She enters as Jerry is about to leave.

"Hi," Cuddy starts. "Uh, Lisa Cuddy. Nice to meet you. I'm sorry about the other day. I…there were some personal things going on in my life, and I wasn't at my best."

"Well, in retrospect, my approach could've come off as a little creepy," Jerry says.

"No," Cuddy laughs. "On a scale from one to creepy, you were maybe mildly unnerving."

Back at the hospital, Taub comes down a hall and sees Rachel talking to someone. A page comes over the loudspeaker. "Paging Dr. Stateman. Dr. Stateman, please."

"Rache, Sorry I ducked your calls," Taub says. "I keep making the same mistakes, but at some point…"

"Chris… I'm pregnant," Rachel says.

They look at each other then he speaks in ultra-slow motion. "I…didn't expect that."

In another part of the hospital, Thirteen enters House's office but stops when she sees House has his jeans down near his knees. There's a white bandage around his right thigh. His back is to her so she doesn't see the damage from the pulled stitch.

"Sorry. Just checking the stitches on my penis," House jokes and pulls his jeans up.

"Your leg okay," Thirteen asks.

"It's healing," House responds turning to face her.

"Good," Thirteen says. "Just came to grab the radiation-therapy forms."

House: What?

"Afsoun changed her mind," Thirteen says confused that House doesn't know.

House frowns and limps quickly out of his office, heading for Afsoun's room. He arrives momentarily to find her holding a long-stemmed white and pink rose. Luca sits next to her. House enters her room and looks at Luca. "Get out." Luca leaves and House turns to Afsoun. "You made a decision."

"I changed my mind," Afsoun says.

"Why," House asks.

"Because there are more important things than…" Afsoun starts to answer but is interrupted by an angry House.

"Than what…than your brain, your abilities," House asks. "It's where everything comes from… any meaning in your life, any happiness."

"Not all happiness…" Afsoun replies.

"He's already left once," House says. "He's gonna leave you again. You don't need to depend on people who are gonna let you down. If you do this, you're a pathetic hypocrite. You're saying that your whole life, all your work up until him was a pointless…"

Afsoun fights tears. "Why are you doing this," she asks him.

House stops and realizes what he's doing. He bows his head for a moment, turns and leaves. Luca goes back in. Partway down the hall, House turns and sees them in an embrace, comforting each other. He sighs and turns to leave.

House steps into the elevator. As the door starts to close, a cane crosses through the doorway. The door slides open again revealing Trzaska. He steps into the elevator, still in his workout clothes. "Was looking for you," Trzaska says.

"I wasn't looking for you," House replies.

"What's going on between you and Cuddy," Trzaska asks. "I saw her crying in her office earlier. She never cries."

"Maybe she's hormonal," House replies bluntly. "Could be trying to have another kid."

The elevator doors open and House steps out, running away from the conversation.

"She has barely smiled since the two of you broke up, why would she want another child," Trzaska says.

"Maybe she knows guys go crazy for how big her boobs get when she's on fertility meds," House responds. "Don't care."

Trzaska picks up his pace so he can catch up with House. "I understand she hurt you and what she did was wrong but you can't just shut down when you get hurt."

House keeps walking without responding.

Trzaska stops suddenly just as House reaches the door. "Is this what my life will be like," Trzaska shouts at House. The people in the lobby turn and stare because of the outburst.

House stops walking and slowly turns back around.

"No matter what I do the pain is only going to get worse isn't it," Trzaska asks. "I'll take so many pills until I can't feel anything anymore? Push everyone out of my life and then what? What then? What's next? Where is this going?" Trzaska has a frustrated look on his face, but behind the frustration, House can see he's actually terrified.

House is silent for a moment, deep in thought. But then he looks Trzaska in the eye. "Pain never goes away," he says. "Life is pain. We are born alone, we live alone, and then we die alone."

Trzaska stares at House. He can't believe what House is saying. "I can't give up like that. No matter how much I want to, I can't be like you."

House nods at Trzaska. "Good for you." He pushes the door open and limps out of the hospital, leaving Trzaska to ponder their conversation.

House enters his apartment and throws his keys on a nearby table. It's almost dusk now. He sits in a hard chair and stares out the window for quite some time. Suddenly there's a knock on the door. House takes a pill and puts the bottle next to his phone, which is ringing. He looks at it but doesn't touch it.

"House I can hear your phone ringing," Wilson says through the door.

House pushes himself up, takes his cane and opens the door. He steps away, allowing Wilson to enter.

"You alright," Wilson asks. "You had lunch with Cuddy?"

"Yeah," House says coldly.

"How was it," Wilson asks.

"The pasta Arrabbiata was cold," House comments.

"Why don't we get a drink," Wilson suggests. "We could go to the Sawmill."

House turns away then walks into the bathroom. He picks up Cuddy's hairbrush and looks at it. "Cuddy's is on the way. I need to return this."

"You think she's going to have an emergency tangle," Wilson asks confused as to what House is thinking.

"It was on my mind. I want to get it off," House responds. House grabs his keys and he and Wilson leave. A short time later, House and Wilson pull up to Cuddy's house and park at the curb. House removes his seat belt.

"Want me to come," Wilson asks.

"If I get in trouble," House asks as if nothing could go wrong. "I'm delivering a hair brush."

House gets out, climbs the stairs at the bottom of Cuddy's walk and approaches the house. He stops and stares at the scene in the dining room. Cuddy is standing and smiling. She takes the coffee press and heads for the kitchen. Seated next to her empty chair is Jerry. Across from them are Julia and her husband. Jerry stands, holding his mug and a plate, as Cuddy returns with the refilled pot. She points him toward the living room. On the lawn, House hasn't moved other than to twist the hairbrush in his hand. He turns around and walks back to the car with difficulty. He gets behind the wheel and closes the door.

"What just happened," Wilson asks confused.

"Get out," House says coldly.

"What just happened," Wilson asks again, this time more concerned.

House enunciates this time, "Get out."

Wilson recognizes how serious House is and gets out. He leans back in and tries to talk to him.

"House, what are you mad about," Wilson asks. "Just let it out. You'll feel better."

House reaches over and pulls the passenger door shut. Wilson stands back from the car, frustrated, and House turns the engine on. He peels off, down the road. As he reaches the intersection, he turns the wheel hard and does a 180º controlled skid. He stays there for a moment, glowering, and then slams on the gas.

Wilson stands in front of Cuddy's house and watches, tight-lipped. As House approaches, Wilson realizes what's happening just in time. He jumps back, landing on his hand, just as House jumps the curb and keeps going. "Aah!" Wilson cries out from the pain in his hand.

House hits the window he was looking into just moments before and cuts through the wall like it's papier-mâché. The table goes flying and the car finally stops when it reaches the sideboard.

Cuddy holds the wall as she turns the corner from the other room in time to see the chandelier fall. House tries to open his door but it's stuck. He hits it twice with the heel of his hand and it gives way. He gets out and slams the door shut as Jerry comes up behind Cuddy, still holding his coffee cup.

House looks over the car. Julia and her husband are there, too. He picks his way through the rubble in front of the car. When he gets to the other side, Cuddy steps forward to face him. She looks like she's in shock and might pass out. House stands for a second then sticks up his hand with the hairbrush in it. Numbly, she takes it. He turns and leaves. House strides down the walk with the rear of his 1988 Dodge Dynasty sticking out into the garden behind him. He reaches Wilson who is cradling his wrist, mouth agape.

"You're right. I feel much better," House says cheerfully. He turns and walks down the street.

Flash forward to the next day. House is downing bourbon in a cut glass tumbler.

"You want another one," the bartender asks.

"No, I think I've had enough," House says. "What do you think I should do today?"

"I don't know. Go home," the bartender suggests hopefully.

"Not tonight," House says shaking his head and grinning. "Cheers," he says raising his glass. House looks around. While he's still wearing his jacket and dress shirt, this is _**not**_ the most dark, depressing hole you can find in New Jersey. It isn't even New Jersey. He's on a tropical island with a bright blue ocean, palm trees and scantily clad people. If House finds bars to match his mood, he must be feeling pretty good. He takes his cane and walks down to the shoreline. He watches as the sun begins to set then turns and walks down the beach.

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><p><em><strong>Link for <span>Aftermath<span> ** s/8215436/1/Aftermath_


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